


the story of her life

by whatlighttasteslike (waitingforeleven)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Alien Invasion, Dreams, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Languages and Linguistics, Linguistics, Marvel Universe, POV Jemma Simmons, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Slow Burn, Spaceships, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 11:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15000299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingforeleven/pseuds/whatlighttasteslike
Summary: If you could see your whole life from start to finish, would you change things?Maybe I’d say what I feel more often.When alien spacecrafts arrive in twelve major cities around the world, linguist Jemma Simmons is recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Coulson to join his team in identifying why the shuttles landed on Earth. Assigned to work with engineer Leopold Fitz, the pair are tasked with learning to communicate with the alien species inhabiting the shuttles. But when mysterious dreams suddenly begin to cloud Jemma's mind, she'll soon learn her true role in this mission and the repercussions of learning a language out of this world.A FitzSimmons Arrival AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After having this WIP for almost 2 years, it's finally finished! Thank you to fitzcamebacktome on tumblr for helping me with this! I definitely wouldn't have finished it without you. :)
> 
> This is going to be 8 full length chapters, plus a short epilogue. It takes place around the beginning of season 4 in canon, but there are obviously some events that changed/didn't take place because Jemma is not part of SHIELD. It's not _that_ important to the central story, but if you're curious where Daisy is, she's with other inhumans (Elena, Lincoln - who is alive and well) at another landing site. I'll address this briefly in chapter 2, but I thought I'd give you a heads up. 
> 
> A note about the source material: this is **not** a direct adaptation of the film or the short story. For some of the more heartbreaking elements from the film (aka - the one from the first 5 minutes of the film...annnnnd that other thing that you find out about later), I've either adjusted or eliminated them completely. And of course, any lines from the film are obviously not my own.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

 

 

 

_“Why did you stop reading?” the little girl asked._

_The woman stared at the page of the picture book in her lap. It was a classic fairy tale, and she couldn’t remember where she left off. Shaking her head, she squeezed the girl’s hand. “Sorry, I just was thinking.”_

_“About what?”_

_Through a small smile, the woman sighed. “Many things. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” After placing the book on the nightstand, she pulled on the edge of the lavender quilt and tucked the girl in. “How about I tell you a new story?”_

_“Does it have a happy ending?”_

_The woman tilted her head. “Well… this one doesn’t really have an ending. Not yet, anyway.”_

 

 

\-----

 

 

There was no explanation for how they arrived.

The Sakovia Accords maintained a certain level of peace over the day to day lives of everyday citizens, minimizing the threat of destruction. But then they, or _it_ , arrived and the world was consumed by a sudden aura of fear and confusion.

What was so alarming about the arrival was the _quiet_. They barely made a sound on their approach, silently invading the lives of the innocent with little explanation as to how or why.

Among the many concerns raised by their arrival, the ones that plagued a majority of the population seemed to center on two simple questions:

What did they want?

And why now?

 

 

\-----

 

 

When the news broke, Dr. Simmons was in her campus office, completely oblivious to the commotion outside. She rested her head against her arms, exhausted from grading her students’ mediocre papers. As much as she tried to maintain an optimistic demeanor with her students, in actuality, her patience regarding them was growing thin, and she sometimes questioned why she even continued with this kind of work.

Maybe it was the prospect of discovering a student much like herself in terms of eagerness to learn. Or maybe it was the routine of lecturing, grading, and research, along a fresh start each semester that kept her going. But the longer she thought about it, she realized it was times like this she cherished the most: the time to herself. All she had to do was lock her door, and the rest of the world washed away. Once she was finished with the requirements for her students, she could indulge in whatever language she wanted to discover next, her bookcase overflowing with volumes awaiting to be devoured. But even the small space of her office was prone to the occasional intrusion from the outside world, and today was no different as she heard a fierce knock on her door.

“Come in,” she called out through a groan.  

A young graduate student, her teaching assistant, cracked the door open just enough to stick her head through. “Ma’am, have you seen the news?”

“Hmm?” Jemma looked over her TA’s shoulder in the doorway to see professors and students in a surge of activity as they walked in the same direction towards the exit, all of them with their eyes glued to their smartphones. Jemma moved a piece of hair that had fallen across her face and raised her eyebrows, waiting impatiently for her visitor to elaborate.

“Check your phone,” she told Jemma pointedly.

The TA left with the door cracked open, so Jemma let out an exaggerated sigh. After stretching her arms above her head, she searched for her phone under a pile of graded papers and opened her news app, which was now frantically refreshing with variations of the same headline:

_“Large Unknown Object Hovers Over Tokyo”_

_“Mystery Shuttle Alarms Residents in London”_

_“Experts Cannot Explain the Arrival of Unidentified Spacecrafts Around the World”_

_“Sources Count Twelve Shuttles Across the Globe”_

The headlines alone were enough for Jemma to push herself out of her chair. Startled by the new developments, she quickly put on her coat and grabbed her belongings to leave, her phone still clutched in her hand. Scrolling, she found her newsfeed full of photos taken from around the world, every news outlet attempting to make sense of the bizarre phenomenon. She barely made it back to her car in one piece – a car nearly running her over in a parking lot through its frantic maneuver towards the exit – so she forced herself to place her phone in her cup holder once safely inside her vehicle and focused on the road.

Through the brutal traffic on her way home, Jemma rolled down her window to let in a cool breeze to help her relax, but all she could hear were the radios from other cars on the road tuned to news stations reporting on the same story.  The sudden mayhem didn’t surprise her in the slightest. With the Avengers suddenly going haywire, some even forced into retirement, the unpowered population was on edge and constantly in search for any excuse to raise questions about powered people’s impact on the world.

In an attempt to distract herself, she switched her radio to a different station, but only found frantic radio hosts sharing their perspectives on the situation or foreign language music stations, which did little to help clear her head. That was the problem with knowing so many languages. No matter where she went, she could never escape the noise, the constant conversations that filled the world. But she did find solace in knowing her home was just a few miles away. She preferred living alone; it was quiet, peaceful. Not that she really had any other option.

Jemma didn’t like to think of the irony of her current situation. An expert in her field of linguistics, she sought to understand people through the languages they spoke. And yet, she was reluctant to connect with another person on a deeper level. Growing up and excelling at such a young age, she stood out among her peers, but not always in the best way. With no one to truly connect with intellectually or personally, she grew isolated. Throwing herself into her work and not worrying about personal relationships wasn’t necessarily a choice, but it was a lifestyle she ultimately accepted and grew to favor.

After a usual uneventful night, she returned to work the next day, not thinking much of the previous day’s occurrence, but she found the campus completely abandoned. A usual sea of students and faculty, it was now as if an apocalypse had wiped out the entire population. Without the constant interruptions by her students, she managed to get her work done in record time. But even with the extra time on her hands to plan future lectures, she couldn’t help but constantly check online for new developments about the world’s current situation. She didn’t want to go down a rabbit hole of theories, but her curiosity was getting the better of her, and she’d rather be prepared than sorry.

What she did find was nothing she didn’t already know. The mysterious shuttles had landed in twelve heavily populated locations around the world, and no one was certain as to why they had arrived or how long they planned to stay. There was also little information as to what was inside the shuttles, but this was where Jemma started to step away from the forums and theories. Once the word alien was thrown around, she thought it better to wait for a confirmation from a more reliable source.

When she returned home a few hours later after giving up on getting any additional work done, she tried listening to the news reports, but quickly grew tired of the endless noise of reporters trying to calm the public. Frustrated by the lack of any concrete answers, she shut off her television and lowered the lights of her bedroom. But she was only asleep for an hour or so before the sound of a helicopter startled her out of her slumber.

For a moment, a wave of fear traveled through her gut, but she quickly shook it off, knowing the sound was just normal propellers and not the sound of a mystery shuttle parking itself right outside in her backyard. Plus, the foreign shuttle was quiet in its approach. Whoever was here to see her clearly didn’t intend to mask their arrival.

Jemma wiped her eyes as she fully awoke, and then turned to switch on her bedside lamp. It was always in the back of her head since the shuttles’ arrival: the idea that someone would remember her credentials and seek out her expertise for the situation. But she didn’t expect it at night, or so soon. Surely, there are other linguists within spy organizations that are more than capable of handling the job.

As if on cue, a curt knock sounded at her door, echoing throughout her entire home. She exhaled deeply, savoring her last moments of solitude. She didn’t want to answer the door, but she knew the man likely standing behind it wouldn’t take no for an answer to at least talk, and she also knew he didn’t like to be kept waiting.

When she finally pulled the door open after stalling for as long as possible, she found herself face to face with the two agents she had met a few years ago. They hadn’t changed much – the man had more lines on his face while the woman somehow looked even younger. Giving them a welcoming smile, Jemma sighed.

“Dr. Simmons,” the man said, smiling warmly.

“Director Coulson. Agent May.” She eyed them both politely but knew the two of them weren’t at her doorstep simply for a pleasant chat.

“I was hoping we could speak with you for a moment,” Coulson said.

Jemma hesitated in the door frame for a second as she wracked her brain for an excuse to send them away, but when she came up empty, she reluctantly complied. “Come in,” she said, her voice low. She led them into her living room and instructed them to sit, but they continued standing, obviously not considering there much time to get comfortable. Jemma sunk into her sofa and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I can imagine you already know why we’re here,” said Coulson. “We’ve been looking for someone with your same credentials in our database, but we’ve come up short. I know you’ve been reluctant to join our team in the past, but right now, we’re in a difficult situation. You’re the best in your field, and I need someone of your caliber on my team.”

“Right,” she replied with little enthusiasm.

“The UN has placed S.H.I.E.L.D. in charge of operations, and we’re trying to keep this as peaceful as possible. You can imagine the amount of pressure this puts on us. We’ve got a team already working near the closest shuttle, but I’m low on numbers. I have some of my best agents across the globe working to keep the other nations calm, but they can only do so much.”

When he finished, Jemma avoided his eyes. It was nothing against him personally. He was always kind to her in the past, never pressuring her into missions she didn’t want to take on, but she could sense the urgency from his voice. And if he was that desperate for her help, the situation must be more serious than she anticipated.

She looked up and shifted her eyes between Coulson and May. “What are they? Those… _things_ that came out of the sky?”

Coulson responded with a short sigh. “I can’t discuss that unless you agree to cooperate.” He paused to sit down next to her on the sofa. “Look, it’s not a permanent job. If it gets too much, you can leave at any time. But this is a lot bigger than just S.H.I.E.L.D. This is something we weren’t prepared for. And I believe that you’re the person to help us get the job done.”

“And the job is…?”

“Find out what they want. Plain and simple.”

She looked down in her lap. He was very convincing, nearly getting her to join his team in the past. She’d always thought highly of the spy organization and its focus on keeping citizens safe. If she had joined, she would have had all the time in the world for research, the opportunity to travel to mysterious locations and work with an actual team of agents. To the average person, it would be the opportunity of a lifetime. But with her favored lifestyle, working with a team wasn’t really what she had in mind. At least, that’s what she told herself when she declined the offer.

Coulson’s voice interrupted her train of thought. “Let me ask you one question before you make your decision.” He pulled out a small tablet and handed it to her, instructing her to play a recording. When she pressed play, the sound was loud and eerie, unlike anything she had ever heard before. It didn’t sound like words, just a continuous howling noise that sent a chill down her spine.

When the sound finished playing, she met Coulson’s eyes. “Is that…them?”

He only nodded, unable to elaborate, and then took the tablet from her lap. “Can you decipher anything from what you just heard?”

Jemma pulled in her lips and shook her head. “It’s not a language I’m familiar with. I would have to listen to a larger sample if I were to attempt to understand the individual words, the phrasing. I would also have to see them, whatever they are. I can’t just translate a language that I know nothing about its origins.” She paused. “And if you’re also asking what I think you are, the answer is no. The language is likely not from Earth, from what I gather.”

Coulson nodded slowly. Placing the tablet inside his jacket pocket, he moved to stand. “We don’t have much time, Dr. Simmons. So, I’m going to need an answer.”

She knew she should say no. The complexity of the language could be outside her current expertise. It wasn’t that she didn’t like a good challenge, but she wouldn’t want to disappoint the team if she failed. And the last time she tried working in a similar environment, the other members of the team simply could not keep up with her intellect, making her feel like a lonely scholar again. But after hearing the recording and listening to Coulson’s pleading, she was curious beyond belief. Out of all the places to land their shuttle, they – whoever they were – decided to land just a few miles outside of her city.

Jemma didn’t believe in signs from the universe, but just this once, the circumstance was pulling at her more forcefully than she would care to admit. A team setting was something she would never willfully sign up for in most instances, but there was something in her gut telling her that this time, it would be different.

Sighing heavily, she looked up to glance between Coulson and May. “Give me ten minutes.”

 

 

\-----

 

 

The flight time for the helicopter ride to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s makeshift base near the alien shuttle was only about fifteen minutes, but Jemma didn’t really notice the time passing as she was too distracted by the person sitting across from her reading a book – _her_ book specifically.

Before this, Coulson instructed her to sit on the bench next to him and handed her a headset. “Shouldn’t be long now,” he said. “You won’t have much time before we begin. I know it’s early, but we don’t have time to waste here.”

“I understand,” she responded, slouching in her seat to get as comfortable as possible. But just as she closed her eyes to try and relax for the rest of the ride, she heard a new voice speaking through her headset.

“Language is the foundation of civilization.”

Opening her eyes, she focused on the man sitting across from her holding a book up in his lap – her first published work of two. The cover was in less than pristine condition, and she noticed a select few pages with tabs sticking out, so she was surprised to hear him reciting the first line. A slight curve of a smile crept on his face, and when she didn’t respond, he continued reading aloud.

“It is the glue that holds a people together, and it is the first weapon drawn in a conflict.”

Coulson cleared his throat. “Dr. Simmons, this is Agent Leopold Fitz. You two will be working together on this assignment.”

The man placed the book in his lap, making sure to keep his place with his finger, and extended his hand forward, which Jemma took politely.

“ _Dr._ Fitz, actually,” he corrected, arching his brow in Coulson’s direction. When the director crossed his arms over his chest, the man pulled his hand back and scratched the back of his neck. “Right, sorry. Doesn’t matter. You can just call me Fitz, anyway.”

“Well, that was quite a greeting,” Jemma said pointedly.   

“You wrote it,” he said, lifting the book back up from his lap.  

“I’m aware. But it’s just a preface. Throw the basics at them to help them dip their feet in the water.”  

“It’s good.” He nodded, returning his eyes to the page. “Even if it’s wrong.”

Jemma narrowed her eyes. “Wrong?”

“ _Science_ is the cornerstone of civilization,” he explained without looking up.

She had heard this argument before, so it didn’t sting as much as it used to in the past (and she wasn’t about to get in a sparring match on her first day, even if she’d done just that on numerous occasions during her scholarly career). But Jemma still looked sideways at Coulson, who was already giving her an apologetic look. “Fitz is our top engineer and the head of our science division,” he explained. “He’s got a lot of questions, which I’m hoping with your help, you two will be able to answer them.”

“Ah,” she muttered in understanding, eyeing Fitz closely.  

At the mention of questions, Fitz’s ears seemed to perk up. “He’s right. I’ve already done some preliminary research…” As he trailed off, he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a heavily worn notebook. He flipped through several pages before landing on one in particular and extended it in Jemma’s direction. “I’ve got a list of questions we can ask them – what do they want, where are they from, some ‘handshake’ binary sequences—”

“How about we simply try talking to them first?” Jemma suggested before he could get much further. “Before we start throwing maths at them.”

For a moment, it was silent besides the roar from the helicopter, but Fitz then rapidly nodded his head and straightened up in his seat. “Yeah, you’re right. That makes sense,” he mumbled as he folded up his notebook to stuff back into his pocket.

“This is why you’re _both_ here,” Coulson clarified. “We’ve got other agents working with you, of course, but a majority of the work will be up to you two. And this will all depend if you can actually get them to converse with you.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can make that happen,” Jemma replied, surprising herself with her newfound confidence.

“Is…uh…Dr. Simmons fine by you?” Fitz asked, now with a bit of hesitancy in his voice.

“You can call me Jemma.”

“Jemma,” he repeated quietly, nodding his head as he looked down to his lap, biting his lip.

Through the rest of the ride, Jemma curiously glanced in Fitz’s direction every few moments to observe him reading, as he now appeared more engrossed in the text than before. Knowing it was not the most fascinating reading material, she hoped he wasn’t simply humoring her, but from the way his eyes seemed to scan quickly through the sentences, his fingers getting caught on the corners as he attempted to quickly turn to the next page, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually intrigued by her writing. Science may be his area of expertise, but she knew words better than anyone, so she seemed to have taken his interest, at least for now. And from watching him read, she could almost recognize the same level of curiosity she often thought only she possessed. It was almost alarming to see someone so like herself in a matter of minutes of joining the mission, and Jemma suppressed a small smile as she looked down into her lap to continue the helicopter ride in silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that left such lovely comments on the first chapter. And as a reminder, _please_ do not include spoilers for the film (or references/parallels to the show that spoil the plot) in your comments. I know some readers have not seen the film, and I would like for them to be surprised. Thank you!

After they landed, Coulson and May escorted Jemma and Fitz through the base, moving past rooms of agents communicating with other landing sites around the world. Jemma tried to peek through the doorways to get a glimpse at their research on the monitors, the screens already filled with plenty of activity, but Coulson was moving too quickly for her to catch anything concrete. They turned a corner, May leaving them to join other agents communicating with a team in China, and continued down a hallway until they reached the bunk area. 

Coulson patted Fitz on the shoulder once Jemma made it through the doorway. “Agent Fitz has a track record for friendly encounters with Inhumans. We thought he would be the best choice to assist you.” Turning to Fitz, he pulled out and handed him a tablet. “You can brief her on the details of the mission. But don’t get too comfortable. We’ll be making our approach in about half an hour.”

“Half an hour?” Jemma asked anxiously.

“Like I said, we don’t have much time. The UN wants answers, so let’s see what we can give them.” 

Fitz nodded, already swiping through the mission report on his tablet. “Understood.” 

Once they were alone, Fitz quickly stepped forward to take Jemma’s bag from off her shoulder and set it down on one of the bunks. “Don’t worry about him. I know he can be a bit intimidating, but he means well. I swear.” 

Nodding, Jemma smiling earnestly. At first, she was taken aback by his forwardness on the helicopter, but now she understood he was probably just trying to break the ice, or possibly just teasing her to ease the tension of the mission. Or maybe he was just an awkward fellow. Whatever the case, she wasn’t quite sure what to make of him yet. “Thank you,” she replied softly. “But I’m not too worried.” 

“Oh, okay. That’s good.” 

Jemma looked around the room to take in her surroundings, and then settled onto the cot Fitz chose for her. He followed suit, sitting on a separate cot facing hers. 

“So…” he started, not meeting her eyes as he continued to look through the mission report. “You’re a linguist?” His voice was more cautious than before, almost as if he was trying to gauge how willing she would share details about herself.

“Yes,” Jemma answered as she crossed her legs, placing her hands on her knee. “I teach at Weaver University.” 

“Not much time for fieldwork, then?” he asked, now meeting her eyes. 

“I get enough,” she said through a shrug. “It’s quiet there, so it’s nice. I love my department, and I get a lot of time to myself, so...” She let her voice trail off, hoping she wouldn’t have to explain her situation in too much detail. Most would find the isolation miserable, but she preferred it. “How long have you been the head of the science division?” she asked, hoping to steer the conversation in a different direction. 

His eyes widened at her question. “A little over a year now. I joined Coulson’s team about four years back, and it’s been a whirlwind ever since.” He paused to scratch his chin. “How long have you been in your field? You look pretty young for a professor.”

She let out a long sigh, trying to remember her time as a young and eager scholar. “About twelve years. I was clever in school, as you can imagine, and I always loved languages, so I got a bit of a head start. Skipped ahead, that sort of thing.” 

“Yeah, me too. Got swept off to the S.H.I.E.L.D. academy at sixteen, didn’t know what I was getting myself into. Would have liked having someone my own age there with me.”

She smiled briefly, relating to his last statement completely. Her mum always wished she would have found someone like herself at university, another equally hardworking and passionate student to help her find her way. Unfortunately, she never found such a peer. At Fitz’s words, for the briefest moment, she pondered what it would have happened if she’d met him at university. She also wondered what he would have looked like at that age. Probably just as awkward as her, she reckoned. 

Shaking her head to rid the thought from her mind, she sat up straighter on the cot. “Director Coulson said you work well with Inhumans?”

“Yeah, I guess you can say that. My friend, Daisy, she developed Inhuman powers shortly after joining our team. Not the best time to develop earthquake-like powers when the world’s still recovering from alien attacks on major cities. It was a bit of a mess, really.”

“Earthquake...?”

“Yeah, it’s incredible. I actually developed these gauntlets to keep her from fracturing her wrists when she uses her powers. It was tough at first, but she adjusted eventually. And she’s doing well now. She leads a team assigned to Inhuman relations, working through the Sakovia Accords and such.”

“Well, she sounds like a wonderful agent.”

“Yeah, she is. It’s amazing what happens when you treat Inhumans as equals rather than a threat.” He paused, and Jemma watched him closely as he bit his lip before he continued. “Coulson told me… he said he tried to recruit you in the past to join our team permanently? If you don’t mind me asking, why the reluctance?”

Jemma lowered her gaze briefly before forming her response. She wasn’t surprised that Coulson disclosed this information to Fitz, especially if they were to work so closely together on this mission. Still, she preferred not to overshare this bit of information. She didn’t have anything to hide, really, but it was something she didn’t like to think of too much: what would have happened if she had said yes. How her life would have changed if she had joined S.H.I.E.L.D., and who she might have met along the way. 

“I like to keep to myself, I suppose,” she finally answered. “It’s just easier that way, to not get too attached.” An awkward silence filled the air, and Jemma prayed he wouldn’t ask her to elaborate. Luckily, he kept quiet, so she changed the subject. “So, the mission?”

“Right.” Rising from his cot, he moved to sit beside her and angled the tablet in her direction. After he unlocked the screen, a holographic image appeared in front of them displaying a replica of one of the mysterious shuttles. “This is what we’re working with. It’s some sort of spacecraft, as I’m sure you’ve gathered. We’ve been calling it a shell. We’re still running diagnostics on its material composition, its atmosphere. It’s what’s inside that we’re more concerned with, and that’s where you come in.”

“Yes, the director played me a recording of… it.”

“It. Exactly. We have teams trying to figure out what they are, but it’s been slow. We can barely get them to come into view. The… _ beings  _ are inside the top of the shell behind a barrier, so it’s not that dangerous, technically. But this,” he paused to pull up a blurry image of a creature floating in a foggy atmosphere, “is the clearest image we have of them.” The photograph displayed an agent standing quite far away from what appeared to be a glass barrier that separated him from the mysterious being. The creature looked somewhat like a giant squid, with seven large arthropod-esque limbs sprouting from the bottom half of its body. Jemma used her fingers to zoom in on the image to get a better look. 

Fitz pointed to a specific part of the hologram. “We’re calling them Heptapods, for obvious reasons, but that’s about as far as we’ve gotten. As you can see, they don’t have visible mouths or eyes, so we don’t know where the sound is resonating from. We haven’t gotten them to come close enough to the glass to be sure, though.”

“What’s the plan?”

“You’ll go up into the shell with us, see if you can get a better look, and you can take it from there. It’s really up to you how we approach this, you being the expert and all that.” 

He was right, of course, but that didn’t stop a rush of heat from spreading through her features. 

“But no pressure or anything,” he continued, but then he tilted his head. “Well, maybe a little pressure, just the fate of the rest of the world and all—”

“I understand the stakes.”

“Right, right. Sorry.” Clearing his throat, he locked the tablet. “But I think Coulson will be happy with anything you can figure out.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. Maybe the Heptapods will simply cower away from me.”

“Nah, I don’t think that’s possible.” 

Before Jemma could even attempt to form a response, their discussion was interrupted when an agent told them to change into their gear for the mission, so Jemma followed Fitz to the loading zone near the north side of the base. Along with another half dozen agents, they were issued standard orange hazmat suits, heavy boots, and communication devices. Fitz easily changed into his gear, familiar with the getup, but Jemma struggled to get everything fitting properly, the unfamiliarity of the situation getting the better of her nerves, which caused her hands to shake a bit. Clearly recognizing her struggling, Fitz stepped over to assist with her helmet. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled as he secured the helmet to the rest of her suit, her cheeks growing even more crimson than before.  

“It’s no problem,” he said through a half smile. 

Once she was properly fitted into her gear, she looked around the room to watch the other agents as they awaited instructions from their director. They were quiet and focused, but Jemma sensed she wasn’t the only one with nerves, a few of them fiddling with their comms or pacing back and forth. Turning to her right, she pulled on the sleeve of Fitz’s hazmat suit. “Has everyone already been up in the shell before?” 

He shook his head. “Only a few. Not me. It’ll be a new experience for most of us.” 

Before he could elaborate, Coulson stepped forward to address the agents. “Alright team, time to head out. Be careful. Don’t do anything rash. And bring me answers.”

Most of the agents nodded and began to shuffle out of the base, but Jemma kept her footing, waiting for Fitz to make the first move. When he didn’t immediately step forward, she tilted her head towards him and found him smiling sideways at her.  

“Are you ready?” he asked. 

“Of course not,” she scoffed. 

“Good,” he said, facing forward. “Right there with you.” 

Side by side, they followed the rest of the team to a pickup truck that took them to the shell’s entrance. From her place next to Fitz, for the first time, she had a clear view of the shell. It was much more haunting seeing it up close hovering over the horizon, its presence and purpose a complete mystery. The shell was the size of a large skyscraper, an oval shape like an egg cut in half. In reading science fiction novels in her youth, Jemma had always imagined alien spaceships as highly complex and extraordinary. But this shuttle was so simplistic with nothing on the outside indicating what was beneath its surface, making it all the more daunting.

The truck eventually reached the base of the shell where there was a visible opening, which Jemma looked up to see a small bit of bright light shining through. A tall agent already at the site helped Jemma out of the bed of the truck, a large shotgun slung across his back. As the other agents formed a semi-circle around this agent as they awaited instructions, Jemma found a spot close to Fitz. 

“The surface level is just up this opening,” the agent told the team. “The lift will take you into position, and then you’ll go through one at a time. You’ll find your equipment waiting for you. The mission is small interactions only. We don’t want to startle them. We’re just trying to figure out why they’re here and what they want. Dr. Simmons will lead the team in documenting how they communicate. Understood?” 

The agents nodded in agreement, and then began forming a single file line to climb up onto the hydraulic lift that would lead them up into the shell. Once everyone was in position, the lift slowly moved them upwards until it reached its maximum height. 

The tall agent then moved to the center of the lift to assist the agents in demonstrating how to move up into the shell. “Be prepared to lose your footing for a bit,” he warned.  

Jemma didn’t understand his meaning until she watched the first agent push himself off the platform. As if traveling through space, his feet came out from under him and he floated in the air, slowly making his way vertically up the shell. Jemma struggled to take in a breath as she looked on in astonishment.

“It’s going to feel a bit strange at first,” he continued. “But you should get used to the gravity once you reach the top.” 

The agent traveling up the shell continued to float upwards until he reached about the halfway point, and then he was suddenly walking sideways up the side of the craft. Jemma couldn’t wrap her mind around it, how her world was literally being turned upside down, or tilted at a 90-degree angle, precisely. 

“Fitz,” the tall agent called out, gesturing for the engineer to move towards him on the platform. 

Moving into position, Fitz seemed to put on his bravest face, but Jemma could see his forehead sweating through his helmet. The sight slightly calmed her, knowing she wasn’t the only one frightened by the mission ahead, so she concentrated on watching his movements in order to mimic them when it was ultimately her turn. Hesitantly, Fitz launched himself from the platform and floated as he traveled towards the upper part of the shell. But unlike the previous agent, he wasn’t as graceful in his movements, tripping over his feet and nearly hitting his head on the side of the shell. 

“Careful, Turbo,” the tall agent shouted. 

Fitz swatted his hand in the agent’s direction. “Lay off. I’ve got it.”

The agent smirked as he and Jemma watched Fitz make his way up the rest of the shell to the surface level – taking a bit longer than the other agents but getting there eventually – and then looked to Jemma for her turn. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right behind you. He’s a klutz, anyway.”

“We’re on comms, Mack!” 

Fitz’s voice traveled through their earpieces, but he was loud enough to be heard without, and Jemma let out a slight nervous laugh. Mack chuckled as well and then extended his hand forward to help Jemma move on the platform into position. Leaning a hand on his shoulder, she took in a deep breath before pushing off and found herself floating upwards just like the agents before her. Instantly, she was thankful she hadn’t eaten much that day as her stomach did a backflip as she traveled upwards, the feeling of weightlessness causing her heart to hammer inside her chest. Beyond the strange physical sensation, it was a bizarre feeling mentally, considering just two days ago, she was sitting at her desk first learning about the phenomenon. And now she was floating up to the top of the shell, about to meet the mysterious beings in person. 

As she neared the upper half of the shell, she was relieved when she eventually found her footing and slowly adjusted to the normalized gravity, her feet miraculously landing on the side of the shell so she could walk up the rest of the way. 

Once she made it to the top, Jemma studied the barrier, the light behind the glass nearly blinding, a stark contract against the charcoal colored exterior of the shell. Exhaling slowly, she took a few moments to adjust herself as the other agents set up the necessary equipment to conduct their observations. Fitz busied himself making sure his small set of drones were functioning properly, the tablet in his hand already illuminated to illustrate their flight travel. When Mack finally arrived at the surface level, he strode forward.

“Alright, everyone in their positions,” he said. “The clock is already counting down.” 

“Counting down?” Jemma asked, shuffling her way to his side.

“We only get ninety minutes for each session. That’s how long the shell stays open. Unless you want to get stuck in here…” He bumped her elbow playfully, but carefully enough for her to maintain her balance in her suit. 

“No, definitely not,” she replied, shaking her head rapidly. 

Mack chuckled lightly. “Thought so.” 

Despite the agent’s easygoing remarks, they did little to calm Jemma, and the clock now ticking inside her head only added to the pressure of the situation. Fitz seemed to sense her anxious energy as he shuffled over to her and placed a tentative hand on her shoulder.  “You okay?” he asked quietly. 

Squinting at the bright light in front of her, she nodded, the pressure of his hand on her shoulder slightly soothing the nervous jitters swirling inside her stomach. “Fine,” she said through an exhale. 

Smiling softly, he gestured his hand forward. “Shall we?”

A silence filled the shell as the agents awaited Jemma’s first move. From what Fitz showed her on his tablet moments ago, none of the agents had gotten more than a few meters away from the equipment during their initial observation, so she knew it would take more than standing frozen and staring at the glass to fully summon the beings in clear view to try to communicate with them. Keeping her eyes focused on the glass, she intensely watched for any signs of movement from the foreign beings, which were still just shadows far off in the distance. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fitz watching her closely, so she glanced his way to find an encouraging expression on his face. At the sight of him, Jemma summoned every bit of bravery within her and swallowed hard before turning back towards the glass and clearing her throat. “Hello?” she called out, trying her best to keep her voice even. “Can you hear me?”

Initially, there was no sign of movement beyond the glass, and Jemma stood in silence as she wavered what to do next, the gaze of half a dozen agents searing through her back. Clearing her throat again, she took a single step forward. “Hello? Can you hear me?” she called out again with more conviction. When she was once again met with no response, she clenched her hands into fists. 

But then, after a few agonizingly long moments, the sound of her voice seemed to spark something in the mysterious beings. Never breaking her gaze from the glass, Jemma watched in awe as two large creatures slowly revealed themselves from the thick white fog that made up their atmosphere. Behind her, she heard a few agents gasp. 

The creatures, at nearly three times Jemma’s height, were much more intimidating up close, and they moved with a soft sway as they floated towards the glass. Jemma had to remind herself to breathe as she watched the creature on the right move one of its limbs upwards – almost as if it was waving at her. But they still weren’t close enough to the glass to observe in much detail, so after letting out a shuddering breath, Jemma turned carefully to Fitz. 

“I think we have to get closer,” she whispered, taking another tentative step forward.  

He nodded in agreement but didn’t make any movements to follow her. As the time continued to tick away inside her head, Jemma built up enough strength to propel herself forward and took a few slow but confident strides toward the glass. Once Jemma started her approach, the same eerie sound that Coulson originally played for her back at her home filled the shell at a deafening volume, stopping her in her tracks. 

As she listened and watched the Heptapods closely, she studied their movement in search for any signs of body language that may give her clues as to what they are saying. But the Heptapods seemed to be waiting on her, so Jemma lifted her hand to her chest. “Human,” she said with vigor as she patted her chest in acknowledgement. “Human.” After repeating the word a few more times, she turned to her right to see Fitz a few feet away, having followed in her footsteps. Moving swiftly to his side, she patted on his shoulder and emphasized the word once more. “Human.” Fitz then moved his own hand to his chest and repeated the word himself, the first syllable nearly getting caught in his throat.  

At once, the Heptapod on the right began to move closer to the glass and lifted its limb in the same pattern as before. Jemma waited curiously as she watched for its next move, but a few moments later, she nearly lost her footing at what appeared in front of her. 

Suddenly, the Heptapod released a swirl of black ink into the atmosphere, which then transformed into a circular symbol that started to settle right up against the glass.  The team watched in astonishment as the ink continued to morph into its shape, the symbol slowly developing distinct tails coming out from the edge of the circle. Too stunned from the sight in front of her, Jemma stood frozen until the ink finally ceased its swirling pattern. 

“Well, that’s different,” Fitz said, a nervous energy still filling his voice. 

Jemma nodded, but then turned abruptly to their piles of supplies. She found what she was looking for in an instant, and then returned to her place next to Fitz as he watched her curiously.  After struggling to uncap the dry erase marker while still balancing the board on her other arm, she quickly spelled out her first name. Holding her stance, she pointed to her chest, then back at the board. “Jemma. My name is Jemma.” 

She waited a few seconds, hoping for the Heptapod to respond, but was left disappointed, the same black symbol still hovering in the atmosphere. Looking to her right, she locked her eyes on Fitz, hoping for some reinforcement. He got the message straightaway and trudged over to their supplies to grab a second dry erase board. After scrawling out his own name as best he could, he then returned to Jemma’s side to hold up the board and point at himself just as she had, a hopeful expression on his face. 

“Fitz. I’m Fitz. That’s Jemma.” He pointed at her then and increased the volume of his voice for emphasis. “Jemma. Fitz,” he continued, alternating his pointing between the two of them. Jemma glanced up to meet Fitz’s eyes, nodding in appreciation. 

To their delight, the second Heptapod moved out of the shadows to hover close to the glass. Another swirl of black appeared before them, a similar circle to the one produced by the first Heptapod, but with different markings around the rim. 

Jemma’s eyes widened as she looked between the two symbols. “I think those are their names,” she uttered, glancing sideways at Fitz. 

“What should we call them?” he asked. 

“I don’t know.” Hesitantly, she moved a bit closer to the glass to get a better look at the makeup of the symbols. She felt Fitz approaching slowly behind her, which unexpectedly sent a wave of comfort through her. When he finally reached her side, he leant down to speak softly in her ear. 

“What about Peggy and Steve?” 

Jemma turned her head to find Fitz’s eyes and chuckled lightly. Together, they turned back towards the glass and smiled widely at the floating beings. 

“It’s nice to meet you two,” Jemma whispered.  

 

 

\-----

 

 

Her time spent with the Heptapods was more successful that she’d ever dreamed, but Jemma still felt a huge relief once they made it back on solid ground. Across from her in the pickup truck’s bed, Fitz was nearly beaming with excitement, clearly amazed by the day’s discoveries. During the ride back, she could sense he was already making mental notes as to where they could begin their research, even pulling out his notebook on a few occasions to scribble down his thoughts. The excitement of the mission was now building inside Jemma’s chest as well, knowing she had plenty of fascinating new material to work with. It would take a bit more practice to get used to the physical requirements for the mission, but she was more than ready to dive in once she returned to the base to begin translating the language. 

The ride back to the base allowed Jemma to steady herself with the familiar gravity, but as she trailed behind the other agents as she walked awkwardly in her hazmat suit, something beyond the change in gravity caused her to nearly lose her balance. It was faint – the image that consumed her mind out of nowhere like a vision or a dream – just a blurry picture of a little girl running in a field, but it felt so real that Jemma had to stop in her tracks the moment it entered her mind. 

_ “Look!” A little girl pointed forward with a toy magic wand and quickened her pace. _

_ A woman tried to keep up, struggling up the grassy hill. “You’re too fast. I’ll never catch you!” _

_ “I’m faster than all the Avengers. Faster than Iron Man, Captain America, all of them!”  _

_ The woman slowed and placed her hands on her hips, catching her breath. “Don’t go too far, okay?” _

_ “I won’t,” the little girl called, twirling around herself before collapsing in a heap on the soft grass to watch the setting sun.  _

Jemma brought her fingers to her lips as the little girl’s voice filled her ears. It wasn’t quite crystal clear, almost as if it was coming from another room, or maybe underwater, but it was loud enough for Jemma to completely lose herself in the image. And before she could even comprehend where the image was coming from or what it meant, it vanished from her senses, and she was suddenly back in her own mind. When she blinked to take in her surroundings, she saw that the other agents had all returned to the clean room to begin the decontamination process save for the tall agent in charge of the mission. When he noticed her not moving forward, he retreated from the room’s entrance and approached her carefully. 

“You okay?” he asked, his tone filled with concern. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she reassured him immediately, smiling up at him as best she could. “Still getting used to everything, I guess. The gravity and the suit.”

The agent placed a strong hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. “It’ll get easier. I promise. But nice job up there,” he said encouragingly. “You made some real progress. Why don’t we get you inside?”

Nodding, she followed him towards the base. “Yeah, good idea. And thank you…”

“Sorry, I don’t think we’ve officially been introduced. It’s Mack.”

“Right. I’m Jemma. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Once the two were cleared through the decontamination process, Jemma started to rid herself of her hazmat suit. “I’m impressed,” she said in Mack’s direction. “You’ve got a solid team of agents.”

He tilted his head back and forth. “We’re an alright bunch. I think Coulson’s pretty proud.”

“Fitz mentioned an Inhuman agent, one with earthquake powers?”

“Ah, Tremors. Would’ve loved to have her here to help, but she’s leading her own team with some of our other Inhuman agents in the UK. But we’ve still got Turbo.” He nodded towards Fitz. “He’s the smartest guy in the room. A room without you in it, at least.”

She smiled sheepishly, trying to downplay his compliment. 

With a more serious expression on his face, Mack tilted his head in Fitz’s direction. “You’re in good hands.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Jemma watched Fitz stumble out of his own hazmat suit and adjust his clothes and mucked up hair. Smiling warmly, she considered Mack’s comment, thinking of the progress she’d already made with the intriguing engineer, and the surprisingly warm feelings that seemed to consume her whenever he was merely standing next to her. 

Giving Mack a single nod, she couldn’t help but agree. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> didn't feel like dragging this out for two months, so here's the next chapter a bit early! *throws confetti*

Their second trip into the shell the next day followed much of the same routine. Jemma and Fitz continued to use their dry erase boards to write simple words and phrases for the Heptapods to read, and the other agents assisted in documenting the Heptapods’ responses by photographing the symbols and scanning them into a database. It was nothing more than some casual conversation in an effort for the Heptapods to feel comfortable communicating with the team, but Jemma knew it was the only way to break through to the mysterious beings if they hoped to learn any useful information about their arrival. After a few minutes of back and forth conversation, Coulson made his way up to the shell to check in. Jemma, suddenly aware of the director watching her closely, tuned out the sound of the other agents to listen to him speaking to Mack. 

“Any more progress?” Coulson asked. 

“I don’t know,” Mack replied softly. “She says it’s going to take time, but I don’t think we have that luxury.” 

“I’ll have the team below start analyzing the photos, see if they can come up with anything before you guys get back.”

“Good call, boss.” 

With a new sense of urgency to keep her promise to Coulson of making more valuable progress, Jemma powered forward with the session, hoping to urge the Heptapods to produce more unique symbols she could translate to add to their vocabulary. But after some time and a fair amount of coaxing between her and Fitz using their dry erase boards, their progress unfortunately stalled as the Heptapods began drifting away from the glass, no longer producing symbols to decipher. 

Sighing deeply in disappointment, Jemma lightly tapped the end of her marker against her dry erase board. Since their first day’s session, she was sure the Heptapods were slowly gaining her trust and revealing more about their language, but now it seemed as if they were still hesitant in their responses. Looking to her left, she saw Fitz swiping through the day’s collection of photos on his tablet as he looked for early patterns, his brow furrowed in concentration. With most of her team preoccupied as well, she decided to take matters into her own hands. 

_ It’s now or never.  _

With little hesitation, she unzipped the portion connecting her helmet to the rest of her hazmat suit and lifted the helmet off her head. The suits were more of a precaution anyway, as the atmosphere within the shell was only foreign behind the glass, so she relaxed when she took in a familiar breath of oxygen. But it didn’t take long for a commotion to erupt. 

“Jemma!” Fitz was the first to call out her name, his worry evident in his voice, but his outburst didn’t slow her movements as she placed her helmet at her feet. As she expected, she heard the familiar squeaking of his boots on the surface of the shell as he struggled to reach her, but Mack was quicker, already reaching her side in two seconds flat. 

“Dr. Simmons, I advise you to get back into your suit immediately.”

Despite his stern tone of voice and his clear concern for her safety, Jemma continued to remove her suit, wiping her hair out of her face. “It’s fine. I promise. You said they can’t get through the glass, correct?”

Mack nodded reluctantly. 

“I’ll be fine.”

He hesitantly stepped away from her, his eyes shifting to lock on Fitz. Frozen in his stance, Fitz stared Jemma down with a startled expression on his face, but the fear behind his eyes wasn’t enough for her to rethink her actions. Rustling out of the rest of her suit, she resumed her approach toward the glass. “They need to see me,” she whispered. 

Despite her fearless movements in removing her suit, she still couldn’t fight her frantic breathing as she approached. It was nearly silent inside the shell, the only sound around her coming from the other agents’ similar anxious breaths and the steady hum of their electrical equipment. Once she was mere inches away from the glass, she reached her hand up and carefully placed her palm flat against the surface. 

A sudden movement made her jump, her breath catching in her throat as her touch triggered one of the Heptapods to abruptly reach out one of its limbs and touch the glass inches from Jemma’s hand. The immediate response nearly caused her knees to buckle, but as she examined the Heptapod and its swaying movements, her breath returned to her lungs and she exhaled deeply. Despite its intimidating stature, the creature wasn’t nearly as terrifying up close, simply hovering by the glass as it seemed to await her next movement. Truly taking in the being for the first time, Jemma realized that something about the Heptapod’s presence calmed her in a way she couldn’t explain. 

“Now, that’s a proper introduction,” Jemma uttered, her eyes now lighting up. Moving her hand a bit higher against the glass, the Heptapod mimicked her movements and moved its limb upwards to maintain contact. And for the first time since she’d begun her journey with the Heptapods, Jemma could feel herself smiling up at the creature, her previous fears having washed away completely. 

After a few moments of calm observation, the Heptapod removed its limb from the glass, but did not retreat into the shadows. Instead, it produced another swirling black circle in front of Jemma’s body, as if speaking directly to her. Jemma reached her hand out behind her and was relieved to find Fitz already by her side, a tablet ready for her to document the new symbol. He was still in his hazmat suit and wearing the same alarmed expression on his face, but as he made eye contact with Jemma, she felt he trusted her judgment. 

With a bit more coaxing by placing both hands on the glass, Jemma succeeded in urging the Heptapod to produce several more unique symbols, nearly too many for her to keep up. Witnessing her breakthrough, Fitz assisted her in taking the photographs so she could spend more time examining the symbols in person. 

“It doesn’t seem threatening,” she said softly as Fitz returned to her side to watch the Heptapod finally retreat back into the foggy atmosphere. 

Fitz stepped forward, the closest he had ever been to the glass. “I think it just needs a friend.”

Jemma bit her lip to suppress her smile. 

“Under five minutes now,” Mack said from his place near the back of the surface level. “Time to head out.”

Jemma nodded, but turned back to the glass to touch her hand lightly to the surface once more. “See you again soon.” The Heptapod didn’t respond with a symbol as it was too far away from the barrier, but its lingering presence was enough for Jemma to know the creature had received her message before it ultimately disappeared from view. 

After safely making their way back down to their base, Jemma noticed how the other agents were in good spirits after her revelation in the shell. But despite their tremendous work during their session, Fitz eyed Jemma warily while she continued through the decontamination checkpoints. Once she was released and she had adjusted her clothing accordingly, he stepped forward with his eyes lowered as she attempted to fix her hair. 

“Pretty crazy of you – what you did back there.” 

Jemma paused with half of her hair pulled up into a ponytail. “They have to see who we really are if they’re going to trust us. If we stay in the shadows, why should they come out of theirs?”

He nodded his head rapidly. “I know, I know. You’re right, but still. It was a risk.”

Once she tightened her ponytail holder in place, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I think it paid off. And you said it yourself about the Inhuman population. We have to treat each other like we’re the same, not like we’re above them in any way.”

He gave her a slight smile. “Yeah, that’s true.” After a pause, he stepped closer to her and elbowed her arm. “What was it like? Being that close?”

A sudden feeling of warmth filled her stomach when she recognized his fascination. “Incredible,” she answered.

 

 

\-----

 

 

The research space they were assigned was on the small side, but it was still bigger and better stocked than any research facility Jemma had ever worked in. She cleared herself a small desk in the corner of the room for some privacy and noticed how Fitz chose one just a few meters away, giving her space but still staying close by if she needed his assistance. 

Within a few hours, she was already deep in her work of categorizing the photographs and marking them up with her findings. Along with analyzing the photographs, she also listened to the audio recordings to decipher any meaning behind the sounds the Heptapods produced in the shell. She was so focused on the wavelengths on her screen that she didn’t notice how Fitz had slipped away for a moment. He startled her a bit when he returned, approaching her workspace carrying two boxed meals, a thermos, and two mugs. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly, taking the thermos from him to pour herself a cup of tea. “I can’t remember the last time I ate.” 

“Well, I certainly lost my appetite after our first venture up into the shell. But I think I’m getting used to the wonky gravity now.” Sitting at his own desk a short distance away, he devoured almost half his sandwich before tearing open a bag of pretzels. “Didn’t trip this time around,” he added through a chuckle. 

Jemma smiled through a bite of her own sandwich. “I noticed. Very impressive.” 

They sat quietly for a few moments as they ate, Jemma continuing to glance at her computer screen to scroll through the wavelengths. 

“How’s it going so far?” Fitz asked her. “Is it like anything you’ve ever worked on before?”

“Not exactly. I’ve studied hundreds of languages, many of which use complex symbols like these to convey meaning, but this seems to be something else entirely. And we’ve heard them speak, but who’s to say their speech is even correlated to the symbols they create?” 

“Right. Sounds like we’ve got our work cut out for us.” 

“We?” She gestured with her eyes to the empty lab, everyone else on the team having already headed to bed as she continued to work late into the night. But she didn’t really mind. She preferred a quiet workspace, anyway, as it helped her concentrate. But she did admit to herself to liking a particular companion, especially when he brought her tea.  

“Well, you mostly. Obviously,” Fitz clarified. “But I’ll do whatever I can to help.”  

“Thank you.” 

“How are you feeling about all this? Do you think you’ll be able to figure out what they’re saying?” 

She let out a deep sigh, stretching her arms above her head. “Well, we have a lot to work with. We’ll have to go through each symbol, try to find the link between the questions we asked and their responses. It’s not going to be easy, but I’m confident.”

“Good. I mean, I wasn’t worried or anything. You’re uh…  _ brilliant _ , obviously.” 

Jemma felt her heartbeat slightly pick up speed. To her relief, Fitz paused to take another bite of his food, giving her time to lower her head to sip her tea and hide the slight blush now consuming her cheeks. 

“What was it about language that made you want to become a linguist?” he continued, his voice quieter than before. “With your mind, it seems like you could have studied anything.” 

She looked up from her tea, comforted by his sudden curiosity. With the urgency to make progress with the Heptapods, she suddenly relished a moment to talk of something beyond her current mission. “Oh, I don’t know. When I was little, I always loved learning. About anything, really: space, maths, you name it. I don’t remember when I decided I wanted to become a linguist, but I know I wanted to understand people. My mum is much better at communicating with people than me. She’s a psychologist, so that makes sense, I guess.” 

“Were you just shy?”

She tilted her head slightly. “Yes and no. I was a bit of an odd one, I suppose. I felt like no one could understand me when I would talk about my work. Ironically, everyone probably thought I was speaking in a foreign language.” At that, Fitz began to chuckle lightly before tossing another pretzel into his mouth. “What is it?”

“Oh, it’s not you,” he said, swallowing quickly. “I just felt similar with my mum. She could barely understand anything I said when I was talking electronics or science at home, but she tried her best.” 

“I bet she’s pleased you found yourself in such a position here.”

“Yeah, she’s happy. Proud even. But then again, I’m her only son, so I think that’s required of her.”

“No, I’m sure she is.”

He smiled softly and nodded, staring over her shoulder as he seemed to get lost in his own thoughts. After a moment, he met Jemma’s eyes again. “Anyway, you were saying…”

“Oh, yes. Well, I guess I realized that the best way to try to understand people was to study languages. Maybe in my head, I thought if I learned enough languages, I would be able to connect with someone on this planet. It felt like the right idea at the time.” 

“At the time,” he said, repeating her last words softly. “Do you feel differently now? Would you rather have studied something else?” 

“Oh, no. I may have just… approached it differently, is all.” She leaned back in her chair, trying to form the proper wording to convey her thoughts. “Language isn’t just about forming sentences and relaying information. It’s about connection. Connections between words, phrases, connections between languages. And connecting with others. I guess... I guess I wish I would have found more connections of my own.”

It’s something she thought about a lot – how her life would have turned out differently if she’d made different choices or met different people. She’d had big dreams when she moved to America for university, but was left disappointed when they didn’t quite become a reality. With so much time already passed, it now seemed inevitable to work by herself for the rest of her career. She knew it was impossible to change the past, or predict the future, for that matter. So, she tried to not dwell on it too much. 

Fitz sighed. “I guess it can get quite lonely, just teaching all the time.”

“I get on all right. I do have time to—”

A sudden loud crash cut her off mid-sentence. Jemma looked over Fitz’s shoulder to identify the source: an agent bending over to retrieve a dropped tablet from the floor in the doorway. Just as she was about to continue on with her sentence, out of nowhere, Jemma’s eyes blurred over as a new image consumed her mind. 

_ The girl dropped her piece of chalk on the ground, where it shattered into a dozen pieces. After releasing a high-pitched cry, a woman raced over to kneel next to her, stroking the girl’s back in soothing movements. _

_ “Hey, it’s alright. Look, you can still use it.” She picked up the largest of the shattered pieces and rubbed it against the ground to dull the sharp edge. She used the narrowest end to write the child’s name in cursive, then a heart around the little girl’s hand as she pressed it against the concrete. “See? Good as new.”  _

_ “Can we write your name, too?” _

_ “Of course. You remember how to spell it, don’t you? What does it start with?” _

_ “Jemma?” _

Jemma shifted abruptly in her seat at the sound of her name and found Fitz staring at her intently, his eyes widened. 

“Jemma?” he asked again, leaning forward in his chair. 

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

After blinking a few times to get her bearings, she cleared her throat. “Sorry, just zoned out for a second.” She pressed her hand to her forehead before rubbing at her eyes. 

Fitz gestured toward the door. “Maybe you should try to get some sleep. We can start back up in the morning.” 

Closing her eyes, she nodded, and then shifted in her seat to turn off her computer. After finishing off the last of her tea, she pulled her jumper closer to her body, and started towards the lab’s exit in search of her bunk, but not before turning back towards Fitz. “Thank you. For your help today. And…everything else.” 

The corner of his mouth curled up as he shrugged. “Of course. It’s why I’m here.” 

She gave him a small smile, which he returned, and then turned towards the door. He was probably right, she thought to herself as she slowly walked down the hallway. With already two sessions with the Heptapods completed, she probably just needed some more sleep to get her head on straight for the work ahead. And maybe the hours of rest would also help her get control of the other unexplained phenomenon going on inside her head. 

 

 

\------

 

 

_ The girl pressed into the clay on her play-table, forming the letters of her name as the woman instructed.  _

_ “See, that’s your name,” the woman said. “You know how you to spell your name, right?” _

_ The girl nodded.  _

_ “Well, everyone in the world has a name. Some people can have the same name, but they use different letters to spell it. Like your friend Sara? Some people spell it S-A-R-A, while others spell it S-A-R-A-H.” _

_ The girl put her piece of clay down and turned towards the woman, a look of concern on her face. “What about names I don’t know how to say?”  _

_ “That’s okay, you just have to learn how to say them. You know when we go to the shop, and you hear people speaking, but you can’t understand them? They’re speaking in another language.” She paused to pick up an elephant shaped cookie cutter. “So, you know how we say all the animals’ names? Well, in a different language, those words sound differently. You just have to practice to say them correctly.”  _

_ “How do you know what they’re saying?” _

_ “You have to learn the language. You can read about it, or listen to it, but the best way is to experience it in real life. You have to get to know the people to understand how they use their language. See, not all languages work the same way. Sometimes there are words or phrases that don’t mean the same thing to everyone. You have to pay attention and understand the differences.” _

_ “Are you going to teach me the new language?” _

_ “One day. Let’s practice your letters some more before we get that far.” _

_ “Maybe Daddy can teach me, too.” _

_ “Yeah. Maybe.” _

Jemma woke with a start, disoriented from her dream. Even with such a sharp memory, she was never one to remember her dreams, but this particular one stayed fresh in her mind many moments after she awoke. Unlike the one she’d experienced immediately after meeting the Heptapods for the first time, or the one in the lab from the night before, this one was less foggy, and the voices continued to echo inside her head as she lifted herself up from her cot.

As she stretched her arms behind her back and tried to let her mind wander away from the strange yet familiar conversation about language, she turned to her side to find Fitz snoring softly in the cot directly next to hers. It was nice to see him so peaceful, she thought to herself, after being so close to the aliens throughout the mission. They weren’t frightening, technically, but they would cause the average person to experience a nightmare or two. But it wasn’t long before Fitz’s sleep was interrupted when Mack entered their bunk rather noisily and tossed a pillow across the room. 

“Time to get up, Turbo.”

The pillow hit Fitz square in the head, startling him out of his slumber. He wiped his eyes and lifted himself onto his elbows, and Jemma noticed a slight blush blooming onto his cheeks when he glanced over to see her sitting up on her own cot, fully awake. Jemma pulled on her jumper’s sleeves and looked down at her lap, fighting the urge to giggle. 

“Get moving,” Mack told them pointedly. “We’ve got work to do.” 

When they entered the research lab ten minutes later, they found the rest of their team standing around the room, clearly unsure of where to begin. Jemma’s work from the night before was still left on her desk untouched, and the rest of the lab had been set up with the remaining photographs in stacks on tables waiting to be analyzed. 

As Jemma glanced around the room, Fitz touched her elbow and spoke softly in her ear. “You’re in charge.” 

Swallowing hard, she nodded. “Alright, then.”

With Fitz’s slight push, Jemma launched forward and began ordering agents around to set up the room to her liking. She wasn’t entirely comfortable being the center of attention beyond her role as a professor, but she couldn’t help but feel slightly pleased with the predicament. With a slight bounce in her step, she instructed the agents where to hang dry erase boards and what to pull up on the large monitors around the room. Fitz followed her around closely, assisting in any lifting that he could, as well as making suggestions for additional resources S.H.I.E.L.D. could provide. 

Once she was satisfied with the initial setup of the lab, Fitz demonstrated to her how the tablets could configure different holograms to assist in looking at the symbols in detail, as well as how to use the large holotable at the center of the room – technology she had never dreamt of using for her research endeavors in the past. 

“Now,  _ normally _ ,” he said while gesturing dramatically towards the large table, “you would need two semesters of holographic engineering before you could even think about touching one of these beauties, but I’m willing to make an exception.” 

“Aw, you’re too kind,” Jemma replied through a wide smile. 

With a single touch at the base of the table, Fitz activated the holotable’s interface and brought the main menu up to begin showing her the basics of how to operate the technology. It was a little trickier than she anticipated, but before long, she nearly mastered how to manipulate the different hologram pieces with ease, Fitz watching on with his hands on his hips, clearly impressed. Once he was satisfied she could handle the technology, the pair started scanning the photographs into the system in order to create holographic replicas to examine and manipulate at their fingertips. 

With the convenience of the holotable, Jemma organized the symbols based on her preliminary observations from the night before. While Jemma worked through discovering different patterns based on the questions asked and the Heptapods’ corresponding responses, Fitz focused on the physical characteristics of the symbols including the unique tails around each circular symbol and the distances between the markings. 

With a routine in place between the two of them, they almost didn’t notice Coulson and Mack arriving at the lab for an update. As Mack approached the photographs pinned to the wall, he folded his arms across his chest. 

“So, what’s this going to be like? Simple? Complicated?” he asked.

“It’s not as simple as translating word for word,” Jemma answered over her shoulder before reaching his side. “We have to understand how they form sentences, what they use for subjects, if symbols have to be in a specific order.”

When Mack and Coulson didn’t respond, she moved to the dry erase board at the far end of the room and started to erase the schematics written across the surface. 

“Oh, not that part!” Fitz exclaimed from the other side of the room. When Jemma turned her head around, eyebrows raised, he cleared his throat and scratched his chin. “Uh, sorry, go ahead.”

Turning back to the board, shaking her head through a smile, Jemma wrote out the question Coulson had requested they answer, making sure to avoid disrupting with Fitz’s notes on the board. 

_ What is your purpose on Earth? _

“Right, so you want to answer this question, correct?” When Coulson and Mack nodded, she pointed back at the board. “To do that, we need to ensure they know what a question is, as well as the nature of asking for information and wanting a response. Then, we need to distinguish between a specific ‘you’ and a collective ‘you.’ We don’t want to know why one Heptapod is here. We want to know why all of them are here. We also need to know if they are making conscious decisions or if they are acting on instinct, which means they may not even understand a ‘why’ question. And most importantly, we need to learn enough of their vocabulary to understand their response.”

Pursing his lips, Mack nodded his head slowly.  “So, yeah. Complicated.”

“Complicated,” she agreed. 

“Well, I’ll leave you guys to it,” Coulson said before turning towards the door, Mack following closely behind. 

Once they are out of sight, Jemma eyed Fitz and found him watching her curiously, clearly waiting for her next move. “Let’s get to it, then,” she said, returning to the holotable. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied eagerly.  

For Jemma, it was a rather strange feeling being in charge of so many agents, especially those that lacked knowledge of her field of study. Because of her ability to grasp languages so quickly, she was allowed certain freedoms in her research as a young scholar, to travel where she wanted and choose her desired research endeavors. But this also meant mostly working on her own with little collaboration with other scholars. She much preferred to work with the people – or in this case, beings - associated with the language she was studying, her fascination always originating from how the language was used in its place of origin. So, the more time she spent on this mission, she soon realized embracing S.H.I.E.L.D.’s opportunity offered her the best of both worlds – working up close and personal with the aliens and the language they spoke, as well as a clever companion to keep up with her intellectually along the way. 

After a few weeks of translation, Jemma’s first major breakthrough was when she determined that what a Heptapod said had no correlation with what a Heptapod wrote. Although it wasn’t the first time she had encountered a language with such characteristics, it definitely took some time for the agents to wrap their heads around the idea. But when each of her discoveries finally clicked inside her partner’s mind and his eyes lit up with understanding, Jemma couldn’t help but smile with pride. 

With most of the symbols translated from their early sessions, Jemma and Fitz continued to make trips up to the shell to try to coax more symbols out of the Heptapods. By that point, the Heptapods had become so accustomed to the two of them that most of the agents from the previous sessions besides Mack stayed behind to allow them to do the bulk of the work. Coulson also no longer required Fitz to wear his hazmat suit, hoping the Heptapods would continue to communicate more openly. They still worked slowly, with Jemma writing words on the dry erase boards while Fitz demonstrated the action associated with the word, but Jemma knew they were on the right track. 

What started out as the most frightening part of her job, Jemma now experienced a new thrill from returning to the shell each day. Through their conversations – short and simple as they may be – Jemma had discovered distinct personalities between the two creatures. Steve, the one that followed her movements against the glass during the session when she removed her hazmat suit, seemed to be much more comfortable conversing with Jemma and Fitz, but seemed to use many of the same symbols throughout their conversations. Peggy tended to create symbols less often, but were always more complex in nature, Jemma paying particular attention whenever it moved from behind the shadows. Fitz seemed to prefer speaking with Steve as the Heptapod nearly never failed to respond to his questions. Jemma didn't know if the Heptapod was actually producing useful responses or just humoring her companion, but she couldn’t help but watch with delight as Fitz enthusiastically conversed with the being. 

“Do you think they understand us?” he asked near the end of the session. “Truly?” 

Jemma looked up from her dry erase board. “I believe so. They keep sharing new symbols with us, so that’s promising. We can only hope that they’re learning at the same pace. If anything, they’re probably much farther ahead. They probably understand people better than we do.” 

“I guess that’s what happens when you’re on the outside looking in. I wonder what they think of us?”

Jemma chuckled. “I’m sure they like you. You ask the more enjoyable questions, even if they’re not remotely helpful.”

“Hey, they’re fair questions,” he said through a smile. 

“I don’t think they have football where they’re from, Fitz. Or sports, for that matter.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, turning back towards the glass. “They probably just float.” 

_ “I’m gonna get you! You better swim faster!”  _

_ “No! You won’t catch me!” Through her giggles, the girl kicked against the water, pushing herself several meters out from the edge of the lake.  _

_ “You’re doing so well,” the woman told her through a smile.  _

_ “How much longer until I can swim on my own?” _

_ Reaching the girl’s side, the woman took her hand. “A few years, I think. But time will fly by before you know it and you’ll be the strongest swimmer in your class.”  _

When Jemma came to, Fitz was holding her dry erase marker in front of her, which she had clearly dropped at some point while the image passed through her mind. Silently, she took it from his hand and secured it in her back pocket. Even though she tried to hide her loss of focus, she could already recognize a glimmer of worry behind his eyes. 

“We good to go back?” he asked hesitantly. 

“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” she muttered, turning away from him to hide her expression and begin packing up the rest of her equipment. 

As Fitz followed suit with his own supplies from the session, Jemma stopped for a moment to watch the Heptapods as they retreated from the glass. Taking in a steady breath, she noticed a tingling sensation coming from her hands that she hadn't felt until after the image entered her mind. Looking down at her hands, she flexed her fingers in front of her, the memory of the image still sitting on the edge of her mind. It was the fourth image now, not that she would ever admit to keeping track of them. 

She tried to keep her focus on the new symbols to translate as they returned to the base, but even over the roar of the engine from the truck, Jemma could still faintly hear the playful shriek of the child. And somehow, she could almost feel the touch of the child’s skin against her own.

 

 

\-----

 

 

The constant movement about the base and the many stacks of untranslated photographs on her desk were enough of a distraction to keep Jemma from thinking about the images in her mind for the rest of the work day. 

Looking up from observing a photograph, she felt the exhaustion set in from working non-stop and the thought of what she still needed to accomplish. Looking for a short distraction, she spun her chair around to face Fitz, finding him busily measuring the distance between two markings on a photograph. “You never told me much about the Inhuman conflict.” 

He looked up from his work instantly, giving her a curious expression. 

“It’s a bit difficult to understand from just watching the news,” she explained. 

He tapped his pencil on the table. “Let’s just say that certain people are afraid of what they don’t understand.” When Jemma didn’t respond, he placed his pencil down and leaned back in his chair. “There’s this group called the Watchdogs and they track down and kill Inhumans.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Doesn’t matter what kind of powers the Inhumans have. All they see is someone more powerful than them, someone different, so they feel like they have to act. Nearly got myself blown up from one trying to kill my friend.”

“Good lord.” 

Waving his hand, Fitz shook his head. “It was fine. I handled it. Anyway, I know from the outside, it can seem like S.H.I.E.L.D. is always in the middle of every catastrophe that happens on this planet, but I promise, all we want is to do is help. At least, I do, anyway.” 

Jemma nodded. “No, of course.”  

“That’s why this means so much.” He looked down into his lap, and Jemma suddenly felt the urge to move closer to his desk to study him more closely. From their short time on this assignment together, she knew how passionate his was about his work and the members of his team, but from his words just now, Jemma could sense a different sort of passion – something more personal. After a few seconds of silence, she finally gave in and lowered herself into the chair directly next to his. When he didn’t look up, she lowered her head to meet his eyes. 

“Did you lose someone?” she asked softly. “To the Watchdogs?”

He shook his head instantly. “No. There’ve been a few close calls, but we’ve been lucky.” Before meeting her eyes, he looked around the room, continuing in a much quieter voice. “I don’t want people to jump to any conclusions based on something they don’t fully understand. Obviously, we’re all confused and frightened by what might happen with the Heptapods, but something tells me they’re not a threat. You would think they would have done something by now. Last time aliens came out of the sky, they didn’t hesitate to cause destruction.”

Jemma remembered the day well. She was safe at home when the news broke about New York, the reporters focusing heavily on the valiant efforts of the Avengers to save as many people as possible from the terrifying invasion. But she knew the news didn’t focus much on what happened afterwards – agents like Fitz and how they cleaned up the mess. She could only imagine what he’d been through as an agent that he wasn’t sharing with her. 

“I know we’ve only been at this for a little while,” he said, “but I want you to know that I’m with you on this, okay? If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Her mouth curved into a small smile. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind. And the same goes for you as well.” Lifting herself out of her chair, she chuckled. “But I wouldn’t be making any promises like that yet. You hardly know me. Who knows how you’ll feel tomorrow.” 

“That’s just it though,” he replied, not matching her playful tone. “I feel like I do know you in some way. I… I can’t explain it, but it feels like I was meant to meet you. And I think everything that happens in here and in the shell, it’s gonna come down to us two to really figure this whole thing out.”

She couldn’t help the soft smile that filled her face, his words leaving her speechless. 

Before she could pass by his desk, he reached out and pulled on her hand, squeezing it gently. “I mean it. I’m with you.”

It was the first time he’d held her hand since officially meeting each other on the helicopter, but there was something electric about his touch that startled her, causing her heart to race. When she looked down at their hands, a subtle humming noise filled her ears, and then a set of voices. 

_ “Hey. Look at me,” the woman said softly. The man wouldn’t meet her eyes, so she shifted off the sofa and kneeled down, placing her hands on his knees. “We’re going to get through this together. I know we will.” _

_ “Yeah, I know you think so,” he muttered. “Doesn’t make it any easier though.” _

_ “I know. But we just have to accept that this is part of our life now.” Taking his hand, she held it tightly between her own. “We’re strongest together.” _

Jemma took in a sharp breath.  _ Not again _ , she thought to herself.  _ Not now _ . But another soft squeeze of her hand easily pulled her back to the world in front of her. Through a subtle smile, she met Fitz’s eyes again. His expression was soft, like he was trying to convey every ounce of sincerity into his gaze. A warm feeling blossomed inside her chest, telling her that beyond the way he was looking at her, his words were completely sincere. 

There was also something in the pit of her stomach that caused her mind to race. Even if this new connection with Fitz seemed to be going well, there was something strange about their working relationship that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. But considering the stakes of the mission, she figured a few butterflies in her stomach were the last thing she needed to worry about.  


	4. Chapter 4

_“Do you think about them?” he asked, his eyes on the stars._

_The woman sipped from her wine glass and sighed. “Everyday.”_

_The man placed his own glass on the side table before pulling her closer into his side on the porch swing. “I wonder what they’re doing out there. What they’re up to.”_

_The woman hummed in agreement. “I bet they’re having a grand time.”_

_“I still worry about them. What could happen that’s so catastrophic, they need our help?”_

_The woman shrugged. “I don’t know. But we won’t be around to find out, so there’s no sense in worrying too much.”_

_“It’s a nice thought, but I’ll always worry about them. I can’t help it.”_

_“I know.”_

 

 

After nearly two months of strenuous work, Jemma was rather pleased with her progress in translating the alien language, and Coulson seemed to feel the same way. With eleven other teams around the world working around the clock in search of answering the same question, the fact that her team seemed to be making the most breakthroughs with the Heptapods helped boost her confidence in her work. Still, even though she knew she was capable of getting through to the Heptapods in order to learn their true motive for arriving on Earth, she was worried she may run out of time. It was imperative not to rush things in her line of work, since incorrectly translating any of the messages could have catastrophic results. But she hoped if she continued to work day in and day out with Fitz by her side, they would be able accomplish what she set out to do and give the rest of the world some much needed peace about the Heptapods’ arrival.

Before long, Jemma developed a routine with Fitz that seemed to be the reason behind their tremendous progress compared to the other teams. Even though they specialized in differing areas of study, she noticed how easily Fitz seemed to grasp the language compared to anyone else on the team. He was intensely modest about this fact, often saying it was her teachings that were helping him understand the language so clearly, but Jemma believed he was just cleverer than he let on. Whatever the case, him and the rest of the team seemed to recognize how well they worked together just as much as Jemma. With breakthrough after breakthrough coming from the work between the two of them, nearly all of the other agents had been reassigned to other locations on the base where their assistance was better suited. Mack even coined the two of them as FitzSimmons when speaking of their work with the director, a term the two of them found rather amusing.

As far as Jemma’s daydreams, or visions, or whatever she had decided to coin them on any particular day, she told herself they were nothing more than a side effect of the long hours. And learning how to control her reactions seemed to be keeping anyone else from noticing she was even having them. A few slow breaths mixed with focusing on the heavy distractions around the base seemed to be the best remedy for fighting them off, but that didn’t mean they were becoming any less frequent. And even through her efforts to keep the images at bay, she still couldn’t stop herself from making a few observations about them – exactly when they appeared, and more importantly, in whose presence.

Despite her mental state, Jemma still managed to accomplish the near impossible. Through tedious and exhausting work analyzing each and every symbol, she determined the general makeup of the language and was able to formulate short conversations with the Heptapods during her and Fitz’s sessions in the shell. Just as she suspected from her early observations, the language did not consist of a strict order or pattern. Each symbol possessed a unique meaning, but the process of formulating the symbol into existence was not completed in a linear fashion. She soon discovered that one must know all the words within the piece of information one was trying to convey before beginning to formulate the representative symbol.

“So, it’s the same forward and back?” Fitz asked her when she came to the discovery.

“Exactly,” Jemma replied, her mind racing as it all suddenly made sense inside her head. “Order is irrelevant. It’s more like puzzle pieces, all of them coming from different directions, falling perfectly into place.”

“Incredible.”

For humans, it wasn’t the most natural way of forming sentences to communicate information, so it was a bit of a struggle at first to piece together the words to create symbols for the Heptapods to read. But Jemma felt lucky to have such a clever companion by her side, and these feelings only elevated once Fitz found her in their lab the next morning, an embarrassingly adorable grin spread across his face.

“Hey, I uh...I made you something,” he said as he reached her side at the holotable, his hair a bit more ruffled than usual.

“You did?” she asked eagerly, her voice rising as she was unable to hide her excitement. “Is that why you were so late getting back to the bunks last night?”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to make sure it would work for today’s session. Look, it’s—it’s a program to help communicate in their language.” He pulled the tablet he was hiding from behind his back and moved so she could peer over his shoulder. “See here—you just scroll through their different vocabulary words until you collect all the ones you need for the sentence you’re trying to build, and then the program formulates everything into a unique symbol.”

As he demonstrated with a simple combination of words, Jemma eyes widened. “Fitz, that’s brilliant.”

“I figured it would save us a lot of time. And it might actually be similar to how the create their own symbols, so maybe—”

“They’ll understand us a bit better. Exactly.”

Biting his lip, he nodded. “Here, you can try it out.” He handed her the tablet eagerly and assisted in reconfiguring it for her to try. Following his previous movements, she formulated a sentence of her own, which the program quickly transformed into a unique symbol in just a few seconds time.

“Excellent,” she said through a wide smile. Without thinking, she reached over to grip his forearm. A sudden rush radiated off his limb, making her stomach flutter, but it was nothing she couldn’t hide. “Thank you,” she said an evenly as possible.

“You’re welcome. Just doing what I can to help.”

Jemma nodded, reassured he didn’t notice any change in her tone.

“FitzSimmons,” Mack called. They turned their heads in unison to find him standing in the doorway. “It’s time to go.”

Placing her tablet on the holotable, Jemma lifted her backpack off the ground and heaved it onto her shoulders.

“Here, turn around,” Fitz told her, twirling his finger.

Jemma followed his direction and waited as he placed her tablet securely in the main pocket of her backpack. She then felt him pull the weight of the pack off her shoulders for a moment before slipping her ponytail free from where it had gotten caught underneath, his fingers just brushing against the back of her neck.

_“You didn’t have to do this,” the woman said softly._

_The man shrugged. “I wanted to. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten time to ourselves.”_

_“Yeah, you’re right. I’ve missed this.” She curled her fingers around the back of his neck._

“There we go.”

The sound of Fitz’s voice brought her back instantly as she forced a sharp breath into her lungs. After patting her shoulder, he retrieved his own backpack and strode towards the door. Jemma kept her place, her hand resting on the back of her neck as she tried to regulate her breathing. Glancing back over his shoulder, Fitz chuckled. “Come on, slow poke.”

Forcing a wide smile, she followed him, the feeling of his touch still lingering on her skin the entire truck ride over.

The atmosphere in the shell was calm that morning, almost as if the Heptapods could sense the easy energy coming off the pair as they set up their equipment. Initially, the Heptapods needed a combination of written and spoken words to understand what Jemma spoke to them. Now, certain phrases were familiar enough to them that Jemma could merely speak the words to receive an immediate response.

“Hello. It’s good to see you,” Jemma said cheerfully as she stepped towards the glass, her tablet resting on her arm. Steve immediately responded with a symbol for a ‘human,’ followed by the symbol for ‘good.’ Already recognizing the symbols, Jemma tilted her head, smiling. “Aw, that’s sweet.”

She shifted her focus down to her tablet, Fitz’s word building application loaded on the screen, and scrolled through a list of words written in English. She tapped on a few words to create a phrase, and then watched as the program built a unique swirling symbol for the Heptapods to read. Once the program finished building the symbol, it was projected on a large monitor for the Heptapods to see clearly.

Fitz approached her with his own tablet in hand. “See, much easier.”

“Yes, this should speed things up a bit.”

“Do you think they understand us enough to answer Coulson’s question? They seemed to understand a few of our ‘why’ questions before.”

“It’s worth a shot.”

After scrolling through the list of words, Jemma formulated her sentence and watched the program produce the corresponding symbol. “What is your purpose?” she recited from her tablet. She waited patiently, not wanting to rush them into an inaccurate response. After a few moments, however, the Hetapods still did not respond to her question. “Maybe that’s still too complicated.”

Returning to her tablet, she scrolled through the words to try and formulate a simpler version of the question. Fitz looked over her shoulder and pointed to the top of the list. “Arrive?” he asked.

“Yeah, maybe. You. Arrive. Why.”

It still took a few moments before they seemed to understand the question, but to Jemma’s delight, the Heptapods started producing new symbols. Fitz was quick to take the photographs, not wanting to miss a single detail. As he lined up the tablet to snap the photo, he slowly lowered it to his chest to take in the sight in front of him.  

“Well, that’s new.”

Jemma stepped forward and traced her finger over the glass. “Fitz, look at the outside rim. It’s much more intricate than the rest we’ve seen.”

“What do you think it means?”

“I’d have to compare it with the others to be sure, but I don’t think it’s a simple phrase like the others. Maybe it’s a larger piece of this puzzle.”

Placing his hands on his hips, he sighed. “We’re close. I can feel it.”

“Yeah, I think so, too.”

 

 

\-----

 

 

It was well into the evening before they were able to translate most of the symbols produced from their latest session. Even though Jemma and Fitz were becoming more and more fluent in the language with each new interaction with the species, the symbols were becoming more complex, which required careful analysis to properly translate them. Once Jemma verified her previous findings with the day’s most intricate and complicated symbol, she was satisfied with a partial translation.

“They have a thing,” Jemma said, pointing to a symbol on her left projected by the holotable. “And we do not have this thing.”

Fitz crossed his arms and pressed his lips into a line. “That’s…”

“Not a direct translation, yes, Fitz. I _know_ ,” Jemma replied through a slight eye roll, followed by a smile to ensure he knew she was just teasing. “But, I still haven’t translated the entirety of our newest one here.” With a few hand movements, the newest symbol was projected above the holotable. “It’s a stubborn fellow, unfortunately.”

“How is it different from the others?”

“It’s simply too vague. It doesn’t fit most of the other patterns we’ve encountered with the rest of the symbols. And it also doesn’t have any of the same inner markings that indicates they’re nouns, like these, see here?” She tilted the holographic piece between her fingertips and zoomed in on a particular part of the symbol.

“Why would this one be different?” Fitz asked her.

“This must be the ‘thing’ they’ve been talking about. Maybe it means something that doesn’t translate. A word we don’t use in the English language, or it means something more complex, like a play on words.”

“Brilliant,” Fitz muttered sarcastically.  

Leaning against the edge of a holotable, Jemma exhaled deeply. “I know we said that we’re close, and I truly believe we are. But then, I come across this, and I feel like we don’t know them at all. I know we’re on the right track, but they’re still so difficult to read.”

“Hmm, yeah, you’re right.” Sinking down into his desk chair, he closed his eyes. “They’re not the only ones that are difficult to read,” he added under his breath, swiveling around in his chair.

Jemma scrunched up her face and looked over her shoulder. “Sorry?”

He immediately stopped spinning. “What? Oh, never mind. It’s nothing.”

“ _Fitz_.” She raised her eyebrows, leaving him frozen, his mouth ajar.

Finally, he shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve just been so busy with everything over the last few months, and yeah, you’re right. We’re still barely know that much about the Heptapods. But I also feel like… _you’re_ still a mystery to me. I mean, I barely know anything about you other than your work.”

Jemma returned to her desk chair and stared at her lap. She wanted to disagree. Over their time spent together, she’d opened up to him more than any of her previous colleagues. But then again, everything she shared with him so far seemed to always trace back to her work in some way. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to share details about her life with him, especially since she thought about him and their relationship more than she cared to admit. But she wasn’t the only one keeping things to herself. The only thing she knew about him besides his work with S.H.I.E.L.D. was that he was an only child. Beyond that, he was a complete mystery.  

“I’m not really an open book. But neither are you,” she pointed out.

“Fair enough.”

“But if you have any questions, you’re more than welcome to ask.” She gave him a warm smile. “Doesn’t mean I’ll answer them,” she clarified.

He chuckled in response. “Okay. Hmm… what do you do besides teach? Any hobbies?”

“I read, research, but nothing much else. I have an impressive library at home.”

“Sounds nice,” he said, nodding. “Do you have a family?”

“Yes. But they’re all in Sheffield. Here, I live by myself.”

At that, he made a face Jemma couldn’t quite decipher. “That seems a bit odd,” he finally said.

“What?”

“You understand how to communicate so well. With languages, I mean. And I watch you steer us around these communication traps that I didn’t even know existed. I just…” he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders heavily. “I figured that would make it a lot easier to form relationships.” Once he finished his sentence, he dropped his head into his hands. “Sorry, that’s… I don’t even know why I—”

“It’s okay.” Jemma couldn’t help but laugh. “But you’re wrong. You can understand communication and still end up single.” She kept smiling until he looked up at her.

When he finally did, he simply nodded before lowering his gaze back to his lap.

“But it’s all right,” Jemma assured him. “No one’s really interested me, anyway.”

Despite his personal questions, Jemma was rather enjoying herself, so she pushed against her desk to wheel her chair over close to his. “And what about you?” she asked, poking his leg with the toe of her boot. “You keep interrogating me, how about you tell me a bit more about yourself. Beyond S.H.I.E.L.D. and engineering.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrogate—”

“Fitz, it’s fine. I gave you permission to ask. But I would like to know about your family.”

“Right, okay, uhh… my mum’s back home in Glasgow, our family’s small so it’s really just her. And I’m not that great at communicating, so as you can imagine…” he gestured to the open space around him, “no relationship to speak of.”

“Right.”

“Doesn’t mean I haven’t tried,” he added pointedly.

“Sure.”

“Just waiting on the right person.”

“Of _course,_ ” she replied, giggling at his admission.

Biting her lip, she relaxed back into her chair. She truly couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so openly in the presence of another colleague. She also couldn’t remember feeling this much joy from working on a project, despite the high stakes. But it wasn’t much of a surprise considering she’d never encountered such a pleasant companion before. As he joined her in her laughter, his attempts at hiding his smile failing miserably, she thought herself rather lucky.  

Through their heavy laughter, Jemma could hear a faint sound of someone else’s laugh in a far-off place inside her mind.

_“You’re ridiculous,” the woman said through a fit of giggles._

_The man gave her an amused expression. “How am I ridiculous? I feel like ‘magnificent’ is a better term.”_

_The woman scoffed but couldn’t hide her smile. “You’re trying to out-romance me and I won’t have it.” As the man intertwined their fingers, the woman sighed in content. “But you’re right. ‘Magnificent’ is the proper term for what you are.”_

“FitzSimmons?” an agent called from across the room.

Jemma turned her head, the voices vanishing from her mind.

“Time for your med checks,” he told them.

Nodding, Jemma turned to back to Fitz.

“After you,” he told her, a small smile still lingering on his face.

 

 

\-----

 

 

Normally, Jemma wouldn’t hesitate to make sure her health was in order for her line of work. And in this case, it was simply a precaution for the agents working in close contact with the shell and its inhabitants to undergo occasional medical checkups. Near the start of the mission, Jemma felt relatively calm going through the necessary questions and tests. But now, sitting on the exam table, she felt a slight wave of nausea as the anticipated the final stage of the technician’s checkup.

Jemma wrapped her arms around herself after the technician finished taking her blood pressure.

After scribbling down a quick note, he looked up to meet Jemma’s eyes. “Have you experienced any changes in your sleep pattern?”

She tilted her head. “I was a little restless when I first arrived, but I’ve settled in enough that it’s no longer an issue.”

He made quick mark on her chart before moving on. “Have you ever felt dizzy or nauseous during or after a session in the shell?”

“No.”

“Have you experienced any hallucinations, unusual dreams, or nightmares since your time in the shell?”

Jemma let out a slow breath. She knew it wasn’t in her best interest to leave out any details about her health status. But she knew the moment anyone on the team found out about the flashes of images she’d been experiencing ever since the start of the mission, she would be taken off the assignment immediately. Of course, there were other linguists they could rely on, but she knew that nothing could compare to the working relationship she now shared with Fitz. And they were so close to figuring out the Heptapods’ purpose.

Meeting the medical technician’s eyes, she shook her head. “I have not.”

The man checked off a few boxes before handing his clipboard over for Jemma to sign. “Then you should be good to go,” he told her. “And as always, if you’re ever feeling unwell under any circumstance during the mission, please come get yourself checked out.”

“I will,” she replied as she pushed herself off the examination table.

It was late when she was officially released from the medical wing, so Jemma didn’t bother returning to the lab that evening, knowing she would rather get an early start in the morning with the Heptapods. Sinking down heavily onto her mattress, she pulled a photograph out of her back pocket. It was the symbol causing her and Fitz so much trouble, the one piece of the puzzle that didn’t seem to fit. She’d come across similar challenges in her research in the past, but nothing held the same weight as attempting to prevent a global catastrophe. Maybe a few more minutes of observation and something would click, she thought to herself. But as she felt her eyelids growing heavy, the picture suddenly morphed into something else – a child’s painting.

_“Did you paint a picture?” the woman asked, reaching over to touch the little girl’s arm. The girl placed her paintbrush in the cup of water on the table, and then turned her picture around, holding it up gently to keep the paint from dripping down._

_“Yep. It’s called Mummy and Daddy and the animals.”_

_The woman’s eyes lit up as she took in the picture. “Aww, you love the animals, don’t you?”_

_“I wish I knew how to talk to them.” The girl placed the picture down on her play-table and crossed her arms in a pout. “Can you teach me?”_

_The woman sighed but kept her expression bright. “Not today. But maybe someday. How about we find a place on the wall to hang this up when it dries that way Daddy can see it when he gets home?”_

_“Let’s do it.”_

_A man’s voice echoed from another room. “Did someone call my name?”_

“Ah, you’re already back.”

Jemma opened her eyes with a jolt, Fitz’s voice bringing her back to Earth. The photograph was still in her lap, but one of the corners was now crinkled where she had been holding it too tightly. “Hmm?” she asked, blinking a few times to push the image away. “Oh, yeah. I got done fairly quickly.” She lifted her focus from her lap and ran her fingers through her hair.

Likely noticing her exhausted state, Fitz dropped his smile and looked at her with concern. “You okay? How did your check-up go?”

“Um…”

Upon her hesitation, he immediately brought a hand up to his face. “Sorry, that—that was too forward . None of my business.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she assured him, waving him off. “And everything seems to be in order, anyway.”

“Good. That’s… that’s good.” Taking the photograph from her lap, he placed it on their shared bedside table. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll sort it out tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Have you been getting enough sleep?” he asked, lowering himself onto his mattress. “I know the cots aren’t the best, but it’s what we got at the moment.”

“Yeah, I think so. You don’t have to worry.”

“Sorry. I tend to do that a lot.”

On most nights, Fitz would spend the time right before falling asleep asking Jemma all sorts of questions about her work: how many languages she spoke, the most difficult languages to grasp. She always answered him willingly, enjoying his enthusiasm even after such long hours of work. But now, he sat quietly on his cot, as if he was processing something deep in his mind.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked softly, not wanting to interrupt his thoughts.

He shrugged and met her eyes. “I don’t know. It’s strange. I can’t comprehend how a language can work so differently. It’s like it came out of thin air, but it makes sense. It’s so simple and organized, like it’s…” He snapped his fingers a few times, trying to find the right word.

“Universal,” Jemma finished for him.

“Exactly. And that…that’s what is so incredible about this whole thing. Could you imagine if everyone in the world learned this language, if everyone could actually communicate with each other just as the Heptapods do?”

A voice came from the other side of the room. “I don’t think it’s that simple.”

The two of them turned their heads to find Mack standing in the doorway.

“What, you don’t think having a universal language would have a positive impact on the world?” Fitz asked him.

“I don’t know,” Mack said through a shrug. “All I’m saying is just because you can speak the same language doesn’t mean you interpret it the same way. Don’t get me wrong. It could help. But from what I’ve seen, people tend to be pretty stubborn about their worldviews no matter what language they speak.”

Jemma kept her eyes on Fitz as he nodded his head silently.

“I don’t want to stomp on your dreams, Turbo, but I’m just trying to be realistic.”

“No, yeah. I get it,” Fitz said flatly, hugging his pillow to his chest.  

“Lights out in ten,” Mack told them as he turned to leave. “Director’s orders.”

“Got it.” Fitz’s gaze finally left his pillow once Mack was out of sight.   

“It is a lovely thought,” Jemma said as she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself.

Fitz nodded. “I still think it can do a lot of good. And the more we learn about it, the better chance there is we can pass on this knowledge beyond just this mission.”

She gave him a soft smile. “Yeah, you’re right,” she agreed.

“Speaking of which, I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He paused for a moment, and Jemma felt her heart beat slightly faster as she anticipated his question.  “You’re understanding it more than your letting on, aren’t you?”

Jemma pursed her lips. “What do you mean?”

“I know you’re not intentionally keeping anything from Coulson or anything like that. I just mean…you’re getting immersed in it, aren’t you?”

She gave him a half shrug. “It’s possible.”

“Because I can sometimes feel it myself.” After placing his pillow back on the bed, he sat cross-legged on the mattress. “I’m obviously not at the same level of you, but I don’t know. Ever since we started this, and we were actually able to translate some of the symbols, I feel like I can understand it in my head without even trying. I don’t know if it’s ever accurate – I could just be thinking up nonsense – but it feels like it’s real.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“Yeah, and I… I was doing some reading and I came across this idea that if you immerse yourself into a foreign language, that you can actually rewire your brain.”

She hummed in response. “You’re thinking of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis. It’s the theory that the language you speak determines how you think.”

“Yeah, and it would affect how you see everything. So, I’ve been thinking…”

Jemma bit her lip, her focus moving to his hands slightly fidgeting in his lap.  

“Do you dream in their language?” he finally asked.

At his question, Jemma struggled to bring air into her lungs. Luckily, the only light source inside the bunk was a small bedside lamp between the two of them, so Jemma felt certain he couldn’t see her expression shift ever so slightly. She knew she shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was to hear him bring up the topic with him being so clever, but it still took her a moment to process.

After swallowing hard, she met his eyes. “Do you?” she asked him.

He shook his head. “Not really. I feel like my mind is playing tricks on me every once in a while, like I’m seeing things that aren’t there. But that might just be what comes with working with an alien species. It sort of feels like we’re in the middle of a sci-fi flick.” Shifting his weight, he laid down on his cot and turned on his side to face her. “I’m asking because I can only imagine what this must be like for you – a strange environment, new people. And it’s not every day you’re asked to translate an alien language.”

She considered his question for a moment, moving to get settled under the blanket of her cot. “If you’re asking me if I’m fit to continue this mission,” she finally said, keeping her voice light to hide her slight worry, “then I can assure you I’m fully capable.”

“No, no, I know,” he said instantly. “That’s not what I meant. I just mean…is it consuming your mind as much as it is mine?”

“There’s no way to know for sure. Maybe it’s because I’m used to this sort of thing. I don’t know.”

“Right, sure.”

He didn’t seem convinced by her answer, which didn’t surprise her. She’d never been the best at lying or keeping a secret. But the last thing she wanted was for him find out about her visions, or the fact that they always seemed to grow stronger whenever she spent time with him, a fact that frightened her more than anything else she’d encountered since she arrived on this mission.

“Maybe you should get some more rest,” she told him, sinking more heavily into her pillow. “You’re going to need all the energy you can get when we start back up tomorrow.”

He huffed softly before mumbling, “Yeah, okay.” After turning off the lamp, he got under his blanket and sighed. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Fitz.”

Curling up under her blanket, Jemma listened to Fitz’s breathing as it evened out, suddenly feeling wide awake. It had been a long time since she’d last felt nerves swirling around in her stomach. She knew he was onto something, and it was likely only a matter of time before he realized she wasn’t being completely honest with him. But there was something else eating away at her that she only just thought possible as she listened to him slowly fall asleep on the cot next to hers.

Closing her eyes, she asked herself the question that made her ill with worry: Was he seeing things just as much as she?


	5. Chapter 5

Their conversation about dreams from a few nights ago still ran through Jemma’s mind as she got to work on the day’s translations. 

Completely ignoring her mental state was no longer an option. She wanted to pretend like what she was experiencing was normal for any agent under major stress, but her analytical mindset prevented her from avoiding the obvious correlation between being close to Fitz and the frequency of the unexplained images in her mind. 

It used to be nothing more than a faint image – sometimes when he brushed past her, her heart would suddenly beat a little bit faster than before, and then she would hear voices. Or other times, when he spoke, she felt this overwhelming sensation that she’s had the conversation with him before. And if his presence was causing her so many flashes, she could only imagine the effect she was having on him. She could be wrong, of course. Judging from their late-night conversation, he seemed more curious than stressed about how much the language was consuming his mind. But she didn’t want to take a chance. 

Over the last few days, Jemma experimented with keeping a slight distance from Fitz, physically speaking. They were still working side by side, of course, but instead of giving in to the friendly touches they’d grown accustomed to over the last several weeks, Jemma tried her best to avoid them. Naturally, it wasn’t an easy task with Fitz so keen on making sure she was properly cared for on the foreign base. Jemma knew he wasn’t convinced by her reassurance that the mission wasn’t taking a toll on her mentally, so he was doing everything in his power to make sure she was comfortable, which often involved staying in close proximity. 

Keeping things from him was probably not helping either of them, but for the time being, all she wanted to do is complete the mission. She enjoyed working with him and cherished the relationship they’d developed since he shook her hand on that helicopter ride what felt like ages ago. But the more time she spent with him, the more she felt a foreign feeling in her gut whenever the images appeared out of nowhere, like they meant much more than she’d ever care to admit. As much as she wanted to continue to grow in their partnership and what she now saw as a deep and loyal friendship, or maybe even something more than that, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the more time she spent with Fitz, the more confused and disoriented she would feel in the future. 

Unfortunately, her attempts at fighting the images by keeping her distance from him proved to have little to no impact on her mental state. Which was why when she heard his voice echoing down the hall as he approached the lab that morning, she felt a sick sense of dread for what was destined to accompany his presence. 

“Yeah, Jemma and I are almost there,” he told Coulson. “It shouldn’t be too long now before we have an answer.”

“I trust you,” Coulson replied, “but I’m getting concerned about time.”

“She’s the best we’ve got. You just have to trust  _ her _ .” 

As she listened to their conversation, their voices growing louder as they turned the corner, a familiar humming noise filled her ears.  

_ The woman brushed the hair out of the little girl’s face and smiled. “What’s wrong?” _

_ “Everyone’s so boring. All they want to do is nap or go on the swings.” _

_ “Yes, well,” the woman said, lifting the girl to sit in her lap, “you’re too clever for your own good. But you’ll make friends. You’ll see.” _

_ “But what if I don’t?” _

_ “It may take time, but you have to be patient. And most importantly, you have to be yourself.” She squeezed the little girl’s hand. “When I was your age, I felt the same way. But then I found someone special who liked me for me. And you have so many things that make you special – your swimming, and your poetry, and all the other amazing things you share with the world. You have to hold on to that.” _

_ “Okay,” the girl said through a sigh. _

_ “You know what you are?” the woman said, cupping the girl’s cheek. “You’re unstoppable.”  _

Jemma shook her head and rustled her hair to force the image to escape her mind. After telling Fitz she was clear headed enough to continue the mission, the last thing she wanted was for him to walk in and find her daydreaming. 

When he arrived at her desk, a pencil already behind his ear, Jemma put on her best neutral expression. But the foreign feelings already swirling inside her stomach made it almost impossible.

“You’re up early. Any new progress?” he asked as he gripped the back of her chair. His arm just brushed against her back, so she straightened up to lean closer to her desk. 

“Not really,” she mumbled, picking up a random photograph and placing it in a pile. 

“Well, I’ll start with the...” His voice faded out and into that of someone else, someone far away. 

_ “You can stop staring. We’ve still got a long way to go.” The woman turned away from the mirror, pulling at the hem of her shirt.  _

_ “What should we name her?” the man asked from his place on the mattress.  _

_ “You’re so confident it’s a she,” she said, tilting her head.  _

_ The man narrowed his eyes and chuckled. “I just have a feeling.” _

“Are you alright?” Fitz asked.

Jemma gave her head a quick shake and turned to look up at him. “What? Yeah, I’m fine. Keep going.” 

“I was gonna say…” he continued, looking at her with a puzzled expression, “maybe we have a look at these and see if they line up with the patterns we were able to find yesterday.”

“But we’ve already looked at those,” she replied, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And nothing points toward the same pattern, so obviously I’m missing something.”

“Okay, then, maybe we can go through the measurements again. I could have miscalculated the distance between the markings, and that would explain why nothing is lining up properly.”

As he leaned over the table to point towards a specific photograph, his hand brushed against hers for the briefest of moments. 

_ His hand brushed against hers, but that didn’t stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks. _

_ “Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”  _

Jemma instantly snatched her hand back into her lap while her other hand reached for a clipboard on her desk, needing something to hold on to. “But I already checked them earlier, as that was my first thought, but no. It’s just this stubborn symbol that still doesn’t fit in with the rest.”

“Is that unusual? I mean, we’re talking about an alien language, so anything is possible, I guess. But I figured since everything else seems to be working—” 

“I don’t  _ know _ , okay?” she cut him off. 

“Okay, it’s alright,” he said quickly, keeping his voice down. “We’ll take a step back, find a different angle. Are you sure you’re okay?” He moved his hand to hover over her shoulder. 

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said, lifting herself from her chair, her voice rising in volume, “but I don’t  _ know  _ what other angle to approach this from. I don’t know everything! I’ve been looking at this for too long and I can’t bloody figure it  _ out _ .” Through her frustration, she slammed her clipboard down on her desk on her last word. 

The other agents in the lab froze, stunned by her sudden outburst and eyed her carefully. Fitz, stepping back to give her some space, lifted his hands and gave her a concerned expression. But after a few moments of him staring at her, Jemma could no longer see his face because it now blurred with a completely different scene. 

_ “Do you think about them?” the man asked her wearily.  _

_ The woman sighed. “Of course, I do. Everyday.”  _

_ “Then how long?” _

_ Keeping her gaze on the floor, it took a moment for the woman to process his question. _

_ When she didn’t respond, the man rubbed at his forehead and turned around himself. “How long have you known?” _

_ Swallowing hard, she met his eyes. “For a long time.” _

_ Nodding his head rapidly, he placed his hands on his hips. “Of course, you did. And you didn’t think for a second to tell me?”  _

_ “I didn’t…” She shook her head in frustration. “I didn’t know what to do. What was I supposed to say?” _

_ “I don’t know. You tell the truth!” _

_ “But that’s not what you wanted! That’s what we decided, remember?” _

_ “Yes, but I didn’t know…” His breath shuddered before he continued. “I didn’t know it would be something like this.” _

Wringing her hands at her sides, Jemma closed her eyes and started to count the seconds for each breath as she tried control of her thoughts, cursing herself at another failed attempt of keeping the images at bay. It didn’t help that she could feel his eyes on her, and those of the other half dozen agents in the lab. But this image was different. It was louder, more invasive than the others. Almost as if it was real. 

Eventually, the image slowly began to slip from her senses. Her eyes grew misty, forcing her to reach up and wipe under her eyelids. When she finally looked at Fitz to measure his response, he was still standing speechless a few feet away. Thankfully, he didn’t seem angry or upset, but simply confused and worried by her sudden change in mood, which didn’t surprise her in the slightest. 

“Jemma,” he said cautiously. 

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she wrapped her arms around herself and carefully moved past him without making contact. “Excuse me,” she whispered. 

She didn’t wait for him to respond; instead, she shuffled out of the lab as quickly as possible. Keeping her head down, she passed the bunks and didn’t stop, relieved to find a clear exit that was unguarded by security. She pushed heavily on the door and tumbled outside, relief already setting in from the feeling of fresh air entering her lungs. 

Of course, she couldn’t go far, the base fenced in to keep outsiders from intruding. And to keep insiders from escaping _ ,  _ she thought to herself. At least it was quiet, giving her some much-needed time to clear her head, but before she could even begin to find some peace, another image entered her mind, causing her stomach to lurch. 

_ “Look, my hair moves with the wind.” The little girl looked over her shoulder, her arms stretched out like she was flying.  _

_ The woman looked on, giving her a sweet smile. “You’re right.”  _

_ “If I turn this way, it covers my face, but if I turn around, I’m a superhero!” _

It was all too familiar, the wind blowing her own hair into her face, so Jemma yanked a hair tie off her wrist and bundled her hair up in a knot on top of her head. 

_ The woman joined the little girl on the field, kneeling behind her and placing her hands on the girl’s narrow hips. “You can be whoever you want to be.”  _

Covering her eyes with her hands, she applied pressure to force herself to concentrate on something else. She used to have more control over her reactions, but now the images seemed to control her more and more, and she was starting to lose hope that they would ever go away. 

Eventually, the image subsided, and Jemma was left with a feeling of exhaustion and nausea as she returned her breathing to a normal rhythm. Clutching her stomach, she closed her eyes and let the cool breeze calm her, the quiet of the outdoors finally letting her mind momentarily rest. 

Unsurprising, it wasn’t long before Fitz found her. She was leaning against the fence, her head resting against her arms as she breathed heavily in and out. She heard him approach her quietly, keeping a modest distance between the two of them. When she didn’t look up or turn around to face him, he let out a heavy sigh. 

“I just wanted to check and see if you were okay,” he said softly. “You scared me in there.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” she muttered. She turned around but kept her head lowered, not wanting him to see her expression too closely.  

“Okay,” he said hesitantly.  

For a moment, Jemma thought he would leave her alone and return to the lab to wait for her there, but after he exhaled slowly, he crossed his arms over his chest, and she knew he wouldn’t leave it at that. 

“Look…” he began, looking off past the fence before meeting her eyes, “I know you’re the more intelligent one between the both of us but give me some credit. I know something’s off.” He was still calm behind his words, but Jemma could sense his frustration all the same. “I know we don’t truly know each other that well,” he continued, “but you have to know that you can trust me. It’s okay if you’re distracted by something.” 

Jemma rubbed her lips together. “I’m not distracted. I just… have a lot on my mind. And yes, I know that’s what being distracted means, but I can assure you that I can do the work just fine.”

“I don’t doubt that. No one doubts that.”

“Not even Coulson?” she asked weakly. 

“No, he was… he’s just worried. And he’s got his team scattered across the globe, so it’s a lot for one man to take on. But he knows how hard you’re working, how far you’ve come.” Before he continued, he bit the edge of his thumbnail and shifted his gaze to his feet. “What I don’t understand is how one moment everything is going well and then the next, it’s like you don’t want to confide in me, or whatever.” When she didn’t respond, he stepped forward, closing the distance to just inches between the two of them. “Did I do something?” he asked almost painfully. 

“No,” she said softly. She could sense that he wanted to reach out and comfort her, but he kept his hands at his sides.  

“Then, what is it?”

It’s wasn’t his fault. No matter how much his presence was triggering her visions, she couldn’t blame him for that. But knowing Fitz and his nature to worry,  she knew she had to give him some sort of explanation. And the only excuse she could think of was one she hoped she would never have to use. But if she wanted the images to stop, it might be the only way. 

“What is it?” he asked again desperately. 

“I’m not used to it, okay!?” Her voice came out much louder than she intended, and she could already register the shock on his face as he took a step back. Letting out a huff, she continued. “Working with other people,” she explained, “and it… actually going well.” 

Fitz screwed up his face in confusion. “But shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

She closed her eyes for a moment before continuing. “Look, when I was young and in school, I excelled much quicker than anyone else. I was always the top of my class, constantly trying to find new challenges, to learn new languages, but standing out isn’t always the best thing to do.” She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice from wavering. “I had  _ no one _ . Not one person that could keep up with me intellectually, and you know what that feels like? To be so fascinated by something but have no one to share it with. To feel like no one can connect with you because they think you’re a freak or something.” 

“You’re not a freak.”

“I know,” she said, shaking her head. “But I spent so much time getting attached to this…  _ dream _ of how my life would look like when I grew up - a career with brilliant colleagues, a family. My mum even said I was obsessed. And then when that didn’t happen, I finally just accepted that I’d just get on alone because it’s okay that way. And I can take care of myself.” She paused to let her statement sink in, and then continued in a quieter voice. “And I think you’re trying to get me to stay on with S.H.I.E.L.D. permanently, and I would rather you didn’t.”

He shook his head. “Sorry?”

“I know we work well together. And we’re making progress. But you’ll get sick of me. I promise. And I’ll muck it up anyway.”

“No, you won’t. You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. It’s fine. We’ll just continue translating, and after all of this is over, I’ll go back to teaching and you’ll get on with your missions with S.H.I.E.L.D. I’m good at working on my own, so that’s that.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she exhaled, thankful she was able to get the words out. “It’ll be good,” she added at the last moment, almost to convince herself.

Fitz was silent for a while, eyeing her carefully. She could already feel the hurt radiating off of him from her words, which killed her inside. He was always so kind and generous, a better person than she could ever imagine working with, let alone meeting in this life. And more than anything, he didn’t deserve to be shut out in this way. But she felt it was her only choice. 

Fitz swallowed hard, meeting her eyes again. “I wouldn’t, you know. Get sick of you. Quite the opposite, actually.”

His words made her heart ache, but she forced herself to keep her tears at bay until she was out of his sight. 

“Don’t stay out here too long,” he told her before turning to leave. “It’s getting dark.”

She heard his footsteps echoing for a few moments as he walked back inside, but the sound was nothing compared to the thundering sound of her heart pounding in her ears. When she could no longer see him walking down the hallway through the small window on the door, she let herself finally release the wretched sob she’d been holding in since breaking down in the lab. 

 

 

\---

 

 

They didn’t speak when they retired to their bunks that night, Fitz already attempting to fall asleep when she returned to their room. For once in the past few days, dreams did not consume Jemma’s mind through her slumber, but she still woke exhausted the next day, still feeling the emotional weight of her last conversation with Fitz. Another occurrence that differed from her usual routine was the absence of Fitz in the morning. She usually found him still fast asleep when she woke, but today his cot was already made up and he was nowhere to be found. 

She didn’t dwell on this change too much and decided to focus on being the most driven and productive version of herself. She still wanted to succeed for Coulson’s sake. He put a lot of trust in her to begin with, so she still wanted to assist in his efforts to maintain S.H.I.E.L.D.’s reputation as a trustworthy and important organization in keeping citizens safe. And more than that, she was still determined to translate that one symbol that was causing her the most trouble. 

She found Fitz already at work in their research lab, assisting another agent sifting through different symbol categories at the holotable. He looked up when she entered the room, giving her a slight nod, but nothing more to acknowledge her presence, looking back down at his work.

“You ready to go?” she asked him, a bit of hope filling her voice.

“Yeah, I’ll see you in there in a minute,” he said flatly, not looking up to meet her eyes. 

Jemma nodded weakly and pulled on the sleeves of her jumper. His distance was expected, but she couldn’t fight the slight twist she felt in stomach from his directness. It was also disappointing to not see the same enthusiasm behind his eyes when they first spoke to the Heptapods, the brief hope that they could continue their work as if nothing had changed vanishing before her eyes.  

Upon arriving at the shell for their morning session, the Heptapods seemed to almost sense the tension between the two, as they were less than helpful when Jemma and Fitz tried to communicate with them. As Jemma moved forward with her tablet, she scrolled through the symbols on the program to form a friendly greeting, but before she could even process the combination to form a symbol, the Heptapods began to move slowly away from the glass barrier. 

“What…” Jemma’s eyes narrowed as she watched the Heptapods’ movements closely. “Why are they retreating?”

Fitz shrugged his shoulders beside her. “I don’t know. Maybe they just don’t feel like talking.” 

“But they’re still here. They obviously still have something to tell us if they haven’t left.”

Fitz simply nodded. Jemma turned back to her tablet, determined to get the Heptapods to respond to something, but she was starting to lose her patience. 

“What. Is. Your. Purpose.” She knew they didn’t understand this question before, she thought it was worth a shot. And with their progress stalling, she didn’t have much to lose at this point. Thankfully, once she displayed the symbol on the large screen for them to see, the Heptapods moved forward again, nearly touching the glass. But instead of producing a new symbol, they produced one Jemma had already seen before – the one she had yet to translate. 

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she whispered as she hung her head in defeat. This is what they wanted her to understand, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what it meant. She could hear Fitz sigh as well, but she didn’t dare meet his eyes. The last thing she wanted to see was disappointment in his eyes. 

When they returned to their research lab that afternoon, Jemma slumped down heavily into her chair and rested her head on her desk. 

_ “I want to fix this. I need to figure out how to fix this.” The man moved his hands about as if he were trying to grasp something in midair.  _

_ The woman shook her head. “You’re not supposed to know. There are some things even you can’t fix.” _

_ “Yes, but there has to be something we can do. Right?” _

_ The woman looked down at her feet. “According to your belief, no,” she told him, her voice filled with defeat. Looking back up, she met his eyes. “There’s not. But… I don’t know.”  _

Jemma groaned and lifted her head, rubbing at her eyes. The research lab was quiet, as there was little the other agents could accomplish without any more guidance from Jemma, so most had already retreated to other areas of the base. 

After resting in silence for a few moments, she heard loud footsteps approaching the lab. 

“Someone pull it up on a monitor,” Mack told them.  

An agent switched one of the many screens to a news station, which was reporting on a breaking story. Jemma straightened up in her chair and squinted up at the screen. 

“Violence broke out in the UK today at a rally as citizens are desperate for answers from their government leaders about the alien shuttles still present around the world.” The screen switched to video footage of the incident, showing people in the streets chanting and waving signs in front of cameras, demanding transparency from their government. The sight sent a wave of uneasiness through Jemma’s stomach. It was so easy to forget about the outside world from inside the dark and isolated base, so to see the true impact of the Heptapods’ presence on ordinary citizens was just short of terrifying. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Jemma watched Fitz step forward slowly towards the screen, his hands on his hips. She brought her fingers to her lips as she continued to watch the scene unfold on the monitor. 

“We have reports of 8 civilians injured at this time,” the news reporter continued. “We will keep you updated with further developments as they become available.” 

Mack shook his head. “We’re running out of time.” 

At that moment, Coulson arrived at the lab. “Alright, everyone clear the room, except for our core team and Dr. Simmons.” 

The the few remaining agents shuffled out of the room, leaving Jemma alone with Fitz, Mack, May, and the director. Coulson crossed his arms across his chest. “Look, I know you’ve been working tirelessly. You’ve made so much progress, and I’ll be forever grateful for that.” At his words, Jemma pulled her attention away from the screen and turned in her chair. “But I need to know,” Coulson continued. “Are we going to get answers soon or not? Because I need to know if and when I can pull the plug on this.” 

Fitz’s gaze shifted towards Jemma before returning his attention to the director. “Pull the plug?” he asked through a surprised expression. 

“We’re losing momentum,” Coulson explained. “I just got off the phone from the Secretary of Defense. The president is going to do whatever it takes to prevent what happening in the UK from happening on U.S. soil. So, Dr. Simmons.” He turned to face her. “Where are we at here?” 

She swallowed before meeting his eyes. “We’re close. I still think that this is the missing piece to the puzzle,” she explained, lifting the photograph off her desk, “but I’m having trouble fitting it into our established vocabulary. Maybe I’m looking at it wrong…” 

She let her sentence trail off as she wandered over to the back wall of the lab, which looked like an evidence board as it was covered head to toe with photographs of the symbols, their translations, and labeled connections between them. She picked at some of the symbols she’d given less attention, hoping to discover something new. 

“Is there any way we can keep going?” Fitz asked. “Can we stall them?”

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” Coulson replied. “And other nations are already looking at other options. May?”

“He’s right. The Chinese government is already considering using military force.”

Jemma tried to listen in on their conversation, but her focus was elsewhere. The wall was an organized chaos, and even as she tried to follow the patterns previously discovered through her tireless work, for some reason, it wouldn’t add up in her mind. The longer she looked at the symbols, the more they seemed to blend together into an endless train of curved lines. And when she lifted her hand to remove one of the papers to try to focus on them piece by piece, her eyes started to blur over. Beyond the sound of agents discussing the situation with Coulson, she heard the faint sound of someone humming. It felt far off in another room somewhere, but the pitch sounded like that of a child. 

_ The girl reached up to pin the last picture on the wall.  _

_ “See, Mummy,” the little girl said, pointing upwards. “That’s you, that’s me, and that’s Daddy.” _

_ “Ah, yes. You did a great job.”  _

_ Her mother kneeled down to match her daughter’s height and looked up to admire her daughter’s creation.  _

Jemma pressed her hand to the wall to steady herself. Her ears were ringing, blurring out the sounds from the world around her and making her feel as if she were falling into one of her dreams. 

_ Before the little girl could wrap her arm around her mother’s shoulder, she girl let out a pained cough, using her sleeve to cover her mouth.  _

_ “You okay, sweetie?” her mother asked, her voice filled with concern.  _

_ The girl continued to cough, eventually nodding her small head. She then wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist and pulled her in tight.  _

Jemma faintly heard a voice calling her name. The second time she heard it, the voice was more frantic. 

_ “When is Daddy coming home?” the little girl asked, her voice muffled against her mother’s shirt.  _

_ “Soon, honey,” her mother said softly. “I promise.”  _

As the voices overlapped, Jemma couldn’t decipher what was real and what was simply inside her head. Her heart now racing, she reached her other hand out to find the wall, but it wasn’t in front of her anymore. Somehow, she was now looking up at the ceiling at the single overhead light shining down on her. Feeling a gentle hand touch her forehead, she lost all sense of her surroundings, her world finally turning to black.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is one I've been wanting to post for a really long time. Some of this was written a year and a half ago when I first got the idea, so I hope you enjoy it. :) 
> 
> Also, I make a reference to an organization from season 3 in this chapter, so let's just pretend they're still around at this point in time. :)

For once in a long time, Jemma didn’t wake to images swirling inside her head. Instead, her mind was blank save for what she felt physically – a throbbing sensation coming from the back of her skull. She also recognized the unmistakable feeling of someone holding her hand, the warmth radiating from where the two palms met and the spot on her knuckles where someone’s thumb stroked back and forth. As she became more aware of her surroundings, she tilted her head slightly to the side to find the source providing her some much-needed peace.

Cracking her eyes open, she found Fitz sitting in a chair propped closely to her cot. He used his hand not holding hers to swipe through a tablet, his brow furrowed in concentration. She didn’t remember how she got in this position, so for a moment, she pretended she hadn’t woken up and just took him in. With so much going on with their mission, she’d never gotten a proper chance to look at him without him noticing. She never asked him how old he was, assuming they were nearly the same age from their similar academic stories. And the darkness of the base always emphasized the scruff on his face and the dark circles under his eyes, making him look older. But now, in the lights of the medical wing, she saw the youth in his face and the brightness in his eyes.

It made her heart ache. They were both so young, and it felt like the entire world was counting on the two of them to make sense of this madness.

The longer she looked at him, the more she thought about how things could have been different. Had their paths crossed earlier, maybe they would have forged an even stronger partnership. And maybe if they’d met sooner, the growth of their relationship wouldn’t have been consumed by the presence of her visions.

Before she could think on it further, she realized he must have noticed the change in her breathing as he glanced up to meet her eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing his tablet on the floor.

She squinted in his direction, still a bit uncomfortable with the lights shining down on her small cot. “Hi,” she managed quietly. Trying to sit up, she pushed against the mattress with her free hand, but Fitz pressed her shoulder back down gently to prevent her from moving.

“Easy. You collapsed. You don’t have a concussion, but probably feel a nasty bump from the fall.” He shifted forward in his seat to move closer to the bed.  “They wanted me in the lab, but… I had to make sure you were okay. Do you remember anything?”

She shook her head slowly. “Not really. I think I was looking at the symbols on the wall.”

“It probably just got too much, and you overdid it.” His lip curled up into a half smile. “We don’t expect you to be invincible.”

“I know,” she mumbled before letting out a hiss as a new wave of pain washed over her from moving her head too quickly in his direction. As her face contorted through her discomfort, he moved his hand to brush her hair off her forehead. “I just really want to figure out why they’re here, what they want,” she explained. “And I’m afraid we’re running out of time.”

He nodded as he continued to move his fingers absentmindedly through her hair. “We’ll figure it out. We’ve come this far, so I feel like we’re just around the corner from really breaking through with them.”

“You’re always so optimistic.”

“I wasn’t always like that. It used to scare me, honestly. All this stuff with the Inhumans. I mean, I wasn’t afraid of them. I was more worried what would happen to them, how other people would respond to their powers. And there was all this tension between humans and Inhumans, and there still is. But maybe there’s a chance with… I don’t know. With this language, we could become more understanding of each other. I mean, I know everyone else thinks it’s ridiculous, but when I see you interact with the Heptapods, how calm you are, I think there’s a chance we can really make a difference, you know?”

“Yeah, I do,” she said, smiling softly.

“Sorry, I’m rambling, and I should let you…” He began to move away from the bed, but Jemma pulled on his hand.

“No, it’s fine. Keep talking. It’s nice to hear how passionate you are about this.”

Resuming his place on the edge of his chair, he then cradled her hand between both of his. Through this small form of contact, she could almost feel his heart racing, her own heart following a similar pattern.  

“I guess I’ve just seen a lot of things over the years that have made me hope for the best. There’s enough darkness in this world, so I guess whenever I see something that doesn’t cause destruction, I hold onto that.” He squeezed her hand and resumed the pattern of his thumb moving against her skin.

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face as she looked at their hands, thinking of the many things she held onto over the years: the memory of her home and her parents, the joy she felt whenever she discovered something extraordinary about a language, the hope that she was doing right by the Heptapods and the rest of the world. But more than anything, she realized that he was the one solid thing she could hold onto throughout this entire experience.  

He let out a slow breath before finding her eyes. “Jemma, I’m sorry,” he barely whispered. “I know you like working alone, and this situation requires us to work closely, and I’m trying to make that as pleasant as possible and—”

“Fitz, you don’t have to apologize,” she cut in. “ _I_ should be the one apologizing. It didn’t make any sense for me to be upset with you. I’m frustrated by our progress, and I’m obviously a bit overwhelmed by the stakes of everything.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t really sign up for this. I mean, you technically did, but not… not everything else, I guess.”

Everything else. He probably didn’t know precisely what he was referring to, but Jemma understood completely. The very thing that was radiating between their hands at that moment. The warmth she felt from seeing him sitting by her bed. How she felt when he simply said her name.

“I know what you mean. But you are…” She paused to chuckle lightly. “…making it as pleasant as I could have hoped for. More so, actually. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner in all of this.”

He gave her a quick smile before leaning back in his chair. “I should let you get back to sleep. I can just—”

“ _No,”_ she said instantly, sensing he would leave now that he knew she was okay. _“_ I mean, you can stay, and keep talking. I don’t mind. But I was thinking…” She trailed off to clear her throat. “You… you can’t be comfortable in that chair.”

“Hmm?”

“Here.” Letting go of his hand, she shifted herself over to the far side of the cot and patted her hand on the empty space next to her.  

“Oh, no,” he said once he caught on. “It’s okay. I can just stay here.”

She didn’t want to come out and say it – that she wanted to see how her mind would react if she spent more time with him physically close to her rather than less. She didn’t want to sound insane. But he must understand how much his presence was helping her feel at ease more than any amount of sleep ever would.

She met his eyes, gazing at him with every bit of hope inside of her. “Please.”

When he smiled and nodded, she let out a sigh of relief.

Carefully, he settled himself next to her, Jemma watching with an amused expression as he made sure not the rustle the bed as much as possible. Once he was leaning against the pillow, Jemma scooted herself a bit closer to his side, hoping he would catch on to what she was after. Clever as he was, he curled his arm around her shoulders and used his other hand to balance the tablet on his lap.

“I’ve been trying to look through the similar symbols to see if anything catches my eye,” he told her. “Sometimes even putting them in a different order is helping.”

She hummed in response, settling more comfortably against his shoulder.

“And I started looking through your files, if that’s alright. Thought it might help to have a second pair of eyes.”

“That’s a good idea.”

She watched him swipe through the files and listened as he discussed his line of thinking, his voice a soothing melody that left her calm and content. She wanted to keep listening to him for hours, but then her eyes grew heavy and she was whisked away to another world where things were different, but not far off from what she already felt lying next to the person she never imagined finding in her life.

~

_Holding his hand between hers, she leaned her head on his shoulder. The cool breeze sent a chill down her spine but curling up next to her favorite person was helping tremendously._

_“I don’t really know how this works,” he admitted, pressing his lips to her shoulder._

_She chuckled. “Me either, but I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”_

_“I guess we can just see how it goes?”_

_She hummed against his chest. “I would like nothing more than that.”_

_Through a smile, he pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ll make a reservation.”_

_“Sounds lovely.”_

_~_

_His breath was hot against her neck, and when she pulled back and looked into his eyes, there was something there she’d never seen before: a need that went beyond anything they’d ever experienced together. She felt it deep inside her, and before she knew what was happening, his hands were in her hair and her lips were pressed against his._

_His hands moved to her shoulders, her jacket slipping off her to land at her feet. She clutched his jaw as their kisses grew more desperate, a soft moan escaping her as he moved his lips to her neck._

_“Are you sure?” he asked._

_“Yes,” she breathed, moving her fingers through his hair._

_Soon, they became tangled limbs against the mattress, their hearts racing in sync as they discovered places previously left untouched, ways of making each other feel light as air and completely whole._

_And when they grew still, their fingers laced together against his chest, she felt like she was home._

_~_

_When he walked in the door, she couldn’t stop herself from rushing forward, pulling him towards her and wrapping her arms around his neck._

_“It’s good to have you home.”_

_“I told you I’d be safe,” he said, chuckling. “I was careful.”_

_“Yes, well, even though I know you’re going to be okay, I still worry.”_

_“I know,” he said nodding. “I don’t like leaving you alone.” Grasping her hands, he pulled them near the French doors that looked out onto their porch. “What do you want to do now?”_

_“Well, I’ve had some wine,” she said through a laugh, “so I’m pretty open to anything.”_

_“Oh, really? Even…” He trailed off to pull her in at the waist before spinning them around. She gasped against his chest at his quick movements, and then relaxed into his shoulder with a sigh as they settled into a gentle sway._

_“Yes,” she told him lovingly. “Even dancing.”_

_~_

When she woke for the second time, she was much warmer. Not because of the temperature of the room or the blanket Fitz had placed over her as she began to drift back to sleep, but because she was now curled up to Fitz’s side, an arm lazily thrown across his middle while she clutched the fabric of his t-shirt. His arm rested securely around her waist, and Jemma felt a slight flutter pass through her stomach when she noticed how his hand just brushed against her skin near the hem of her jumper. Before she moved to untangle herself, she took in the steady rise and fall of his chest and allowed herself to feel the soothing energy radiating off him for a few more moments. There was something comforting about him feeling safe enough to fall asleep as well, and Jemma could just make out a faint memory of when she was on the edge of consciousness and how she could have sworn she felt his lips press against the top of her head.

Now, she felt his forehead resting there, and as much as she wanted to stay in that position for many more hours, she knew they were probably needed in the lab. Plus, there was no way she would be able to fall back to sleep anyway.

He must have noticed her stirring, or maybe his ears were ringing from her simply thinking about him so much, because Jemma felt him lift his head off of hers.

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she began to untangle herself.

“No, it’s fine.” Pushing himself up into a sitting position, he moved a piece of hair that had fallen in front of her face. “You seemed… peaceful.”

“I was, actually. I was dreaming.”

“About anything in particular?”

Jemma shook her head. “I can’t really remember.” At this angle, he couldn’t really see her eyes, so she was safe to assume he didn’t see through her lie. Not only did she vividly remember her dreams in that moment, but she also knew it was going to take her a long time to ever forget them.

She stretched her arms and let out a yawn. “Guess I was more exhausted than I thought.”

“Your head feel any better?”

She nodded, and before she could second-guess herself, she placed her hand on top of his in the space between them. “Much.”

He cleared his throat, and Jemma could see the trace of a smile growing on his face. “That’s good. Because I think I may have found something after you fell back to sleep.”

 

\---

 

He never let go of her hand as they made their way through the halls toward their research lab, and she was grateful for that. She was still a bit unsteady on her feet since her fall, and holding his hand was helping her keep her balance, along with something else she didn’t anticipate. It was also providing her with a continuous feeling of warmth throughout her entire body and mind, sending her into a state she had yet to feel on this mission with him – safe and secure in her own mind. Instead of fighting the images, she thought to herself, maybe all she needed to do was embrace them.

She still felt a bit silly, as she hasn’t had someone to lean on for comfort in such a long time, so her feelings could be a combination of nerves and a slight thrill at the prospect. But she liked to think she was in her rightful place at the moment. And he seemed to feel the same way as he guided her past agents, making sure they didn’t stop to ask about her condition or bother her in any way. Once he steered her inside the lab and to her desk, he finally let go of her hand, but he continued to hover over her with a gentle hand on her shoulder as he pulled up the symbol he was studying before she woke up. He enlarged it on her tablet screen and then pulled up a few other symbols to compare it, zooming in on a few particular markings.

“See here,” he said, pointing at the symbol. “We thought it was in the same category as the rest, but I think it stands on its own.”

Jemma tried to listen to him, but after taking one look at the original symbol he pulled up, she was already lost in her mind, the symbol’s meaning already in front of her. Maybe all it took was a peaceful nap in Fitz’s arms for her to see it more clearly, but whatever it was, as she looked at the symbol this time, she suddenly saw it in a new light.

“Bloody hell,” she muttered.  

“What? Jemma?” He kneeled down to meet her at eye level.

She stared at the symbol for a moment longer before turning her head to meet his eyes. “Offer weapon.”

“What?” he asked again, his eyes darting between hers and the tablet.

“That’s what it means,” she told him, keeping her voice low and rising from her chair. “Offer weapon.”

He followed her movements and looked around the lab cautiously. “Wait, wait, wait…” he said in barely a whisper before stepping forward and placing his hands on her shoulders.

“It doesn’t mean that necessarily,” she clarified, reaching out to hold onto one of his arms. “It’s still broad.”

“But it could.”

“Yes, but we also don’t know what this weapon actually is or if it even is one in the first place.”

“Jemma, you don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head. “Once the team gets ahold of this, there’s no way they’ll let us continue.”

“Get ahold of what?”

The pair whipped their heads around to find Mack standing a few feet away.  

Fitz didn’t move from Jemma’s side, but cleared his throat. “Nothing, we were just—”

“Look, I don’t know what you just figured out, but Coulson wants to see you two.”

Jemma locked eyes on Fitz, and she could already see the worry seeping through his features. Without a word, he took her hand and they followed Mack out of the lab. Before they rounded the corner, Jemma gave his hand a squeeze, hoping he would understand that they were in this together.

Coulson’s office was a small space closed off in a back corner of the base. When the three of them entered, he instructed Jemma to sit before they all waited, holding their breath for what was to come.  

“I just got off the phone with Daisy,” he began, his voice calm but concerned. “There was a meeting with the UN. They’re threatening to bring in the ATCU if we don’t show signs of progress.”

“What’s the ATCU?” Jemma asked.

“Advanced Threat Containment Unit,” Mack answered.  

“What? But the Heptapods aren’t a threat.” She turned to look at Fitz, and he could only offer her a shrug.  

“They don’t know that for sure,” Coulson added.  

“But we do know that they arrived here peacefully,” Jemma continued. “Yes, they came here unannounced, but what were they supposed to do? They don’t speak our language, but they obviously have a bigger purpose than just frightening us. And we’re so close to getting answers.” Before she could elaborate, she bit her tongue, unsure of how to bring up the subject of their latest discovery. Unfortunately, Coulson was quick to catch on to her hesitancy.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said. When she didn’t respond, looking instead at her lap, he turned to Fitz. “What did you find?”

Fitz glanced over at Jemma, and she tried to give him as hopeful an expression as possible. As he let out a long sigh, clearly unable to hold in their lie anymore, he placed his hands on his hips and looked down at the floor. “We think... we may have discovered why they’re here. Broadly speaking.” He moved toward Coulson and pulled his tablet out of his back pocket. After loading a holographic diagram illustrating the symbol causing Jemma and Fitz the most frustration, he manipulated the hologram to zoom in on a particular set of markings. “We know the Heptapods have something that we, the human population, do not have. We could be wrong, but from comparing this symbol to everything else we’ve gathered, the closest translation Jemma’s come up with is… ‘offer weapon.’”

“Weapon?” Coulson repeated.

“Goddammit,” Mack mumbled from the corner of the office.

“You’re sure about this?” Coulson asked.

“Like I said, it’s a broad translation. Jemma?”

She pushed herself up from her chair and stepped in front of Fitz to face Coulson. “It doesn’t necessarily mean weapon. For instance, what do you do with a weapon?”

“Cause destruction,” Fitz offered.

“Kill,” Mack answered.

“No, no, no, it’s simpler than that,” Jemma said, waving her hand. “You _use_ it, right? No matter what you’re doing with it, you’re _using_ it. They could just be referring to something less violent. Like a—”

“Tool,” Fitz said suddenly, finishing her sentence.

Jemma’s eyes lit up at his revelation. “Yes, like a _tool_. A tool doesn’t hold the same negative connotation as a weapon. Plus, it would explain why we had so much trouble translating this specific symbol in the first place.”

“So, we tell the UN they want to give us a tool,” Mack said. “What stops the world or the ATCU from interpreting the word tool as a weapon? And we don’t even know what it is yet.”

“I don’t know,” Jemma replied. “We stall. Tell them that we’re close to a solution, but still need some time.”

“Unfortunately, these organizations like the ATCU,” Coulson told her, “they’re not here to make friends with these beings. I know they claim to act peacefully, but they usually don’t hesitate to take drastic measures to protect their people. If they’re given the opportunity to taint these beings as violent or threatening, they will, and they’ll make sure the entire world knows it.”

Before Jemma could respond, Agent May entered the office, a stern look on her face. “Sir, China just went dark. They’re saying Russia and Sudan could be next.”

“How much you wanna bet they got the ‘offer weapon’ message too?” Mack uttered.

“Let’s go back in the lab,” Coulson instructed his team.  

“Wait, we can’t just let them cut off communications,” Jemma pleaded, following closely behind the director. “What if they’re planning something rash?”

He didn’t immediately respond to her question, but when they reached the lab, Jemma found her answer. Agents gathered around a monitor as it displayed a breaking news story.

“New reports have just come in stating the Chinese government is prepared to use military force against the shuttles if they do not retreat within twenty-four hours. Chinese General Shang has just issued a statement encouraging the other eleven nations engaging with the shuttles to follow his lead.  In his statement, he says he will use whatever means necessary to protect his citizens.”

“Oh God,” Jemma murmured, glancing sideways at Fitz to see the color draining from his face.  

“There has been no word from the other eleven nations involved in this situation at this time,” the reporter continued. “Many of our nations’ leaders are waiting to see what King T’Challa of Wakanda has to say about the matter.”

“He just became king, right?” Jemma asked quietly.

Fitz nodded, keeping his eyes glued to the screen.

“Since his father’s death, he has led many peaceful resolutions of matters concerning national security, so his perspective is highly sought after during this time. As of this morning, the King has not made any official statements regarding the shuttles other than support for the teams working on the ground. We will keep you updated if he or any of our nations’ leaders make any statements about their actions going forward.”

“This is wrong,” Fitz said once the report ended. “We know it’s not like it sounds. If we could just talk to the Heptapods one last time, maybe they’ll give us something new—”

“I’m sorry guys,” Coulson cut in. “But there’s nothing more we can do right now until we receive official orders.”

“So, we’re just supposed to wait and pray the other nations don’t take any drastic actions?” Jemma asked. “Sir, I’m close. I just need a little more time to ask them a few additional questions. We could clear this up in an hour at most.”

“Dr. Simmons…” He let out a sigh and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have that kind of time. You’ve done outstanding work here over the last few months, and I’m grateful for that, but it’s too late.”

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Jemma felt her heart drop to her stomach.

“I’ll give you the proper clearances if you want to head out before it gets too chaotic in here,” he told her. “We can stay in contact if you’re needed for any further observation.”

Through a pained smile, she nodded. “Understood, sir,” she said weakly.

The rest of the team cleared out of the lab, Mack patting Jemma’s shoulder and giving her a sympathetic look before he left. When Jemma turned, Fitz was at her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought he would let up. After all that work, after everything you accomplished...”

“It feels like it was all for nothing,” she finished for him, sinking heavily into her desk chair as she felt sudden tears threatening to spill over. Leaning forward, she covered her face with her hand and sighed.

Fitz followed her and kneeled in front of her chair. “Hey.” Pulling at her wrist, he wrapped his hands around hers, meeting her eyes. “You and I both know it wasn’t for nothing. You translated an entire alien language by yourself.”

“Almost an entire language,” she corrected him.

“Okay, almost. But you can communicate with these beings that we’ve only known for a few months.”

“I had help.”

“Yes, you had some help. But you have to know that this is all possible because of you. The Heptapods trust you. Not me, not Coulson, _you_. You’re the one that got them to speak in the first place, and that’s the only reason why any of the other nations could make any progress. You’re brilliant, and everything you’ve accomplished, that’s something to be proud of.” He paused, squeezing her hands before adding, “I’m proud of you.”

At his words, Jemma could only nod, too overcome by the sincerity behind them. Looking down at their hands, she took in their meaning. She may have not succeeded in her original mission, but she was rewarded with something else that still made it worth it.

As he stood, Fitz pulled her to her feet and ran his hand across her back. “Come on, let’s go get some air.”

The night was quiet, and with the base’s activity placed on hold until further notice, it was almost peaceful outside, as if the world wasn’t in a state of unknown. The only anomaly compared to any other night was the hovering presence of the shell in the distance, a mystery still left unsolved.

Fitz guided Jemma by hand to one of the pick-up trucks parked in the field and helped her climb up into the bed. As their legs dangled over the edge, they looked off towards the shell, its stillness and size still a wonder in the middle of all their discoveries.

Jemma let her chin drop to her chest as she exhaled, her fingers still clinging to his in the space between them. “I don’t know what to say,” she said softly.  

Fitz shook his head. “You did everything you could. I just… I’m sorry it has to end this way.”

Jemma nodded, keeping her focus on the shell in the distance. Since she began the mission, she thought a lot about beginnings and endings, how stories began and the unknown paths they took along the way. She thought about their story, how they met under such extreme circumstances, and how she wished they would have met sooner. But maybe, she thought, they were always meant to meet this way.

_“Do you still remember the first thing I said to you?” His fingers brushed against her cheek._

_“Don’t you mean what you read to me?” she teased._

_“Okay, yes, technically.”_

_“It was a bit much, to be honest. But then I saw something in your eyes that day. I don’t know how, but… I had a feeling you would be in my life for a long time.”_

She turned to him, watching his eyes take in the night. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“If you could see your whole life from start to finish, would you change things?”

At her question, he seemed to go to a far off place in his mind, his mouth ajar as he sat in thought. It took him a moment before his eyes suddenly narrowed. “I don’t think it works that way. Time is fixed, so you can’t change the future.”

“I know, but… if you could, would you?”

He looked away, scratching his jawline before meeting her eyes again. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know. Maybe I’d say what I feel more often.”

“Me too.”

His expression softened, and she could almost see everything they’d built together, every cherished memory behind his eyes. And as he looked at her, she felt as if every word - in any language - had suddenly escaped from her mind. She wished to tell him everything she saw in him, and everything she saw that didn’t make sense. Because ever since she woke up from her dreamscape a few hours ago, his arm around her like the most natural thing in the world, the symbol wasn’t the only thing she could now see clearly.

Holding onto her wrist gently, he laid back against the bed of the truck, and she followed, resting her head on his outstretched arm. For a little while, the only sound other than the whistling wind was their breaths, slowly becoming in sync.

“You know,” he said, pointing towards the sky, “I’ve had my head tilted up to the stars for as long as I can remember. Even as a little kid, I always wanted to discover something extraordinary out there.”

Jemma hummed in response, unable to hold back a smile as the image of a little Fitz stargazing entered her mind.

“But you know what surprised me the most about all this?” Squeezing her shoulder, he exhaled. “It wasn’t meeting them. It was meeting you.”

Jemma turned her head to glance his way. He was still looking up at the sky, but his lip curved upwards into a small smile. Looking back up, she shifted over and closed the distance between them, laying her head on his shoulder. “What’s going to happen now?” she asked.

“They’ll likely shut everything down, and I’m sure we’ll hear from the ATCU eventually. Or we’ll hear about it on the news. Either way, it probably won’t end well.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

At her words, he sat up only slightly to look down at her. Turning towards each other, they intertwined their fingers between their chests, and a slight nervous expression washed over Fitz’s features. “You meant us,” he said. When Jemma nodded, he let out a sharp breath. “Right.”

“You said it would come down to the two of us,” she told him as her thumb slowly traced over his knuckles. “I still think that’s true. But maybe not in the way you originally thought.” As she took in a nervous breath, he moved closer, his forehead just touching hers before whispering her name. She closed her eyes, the image of him the only thing consuming her mind in that moment.

But before she could lean in and truly give in to what she wanted most, a sudden humming sound caught her attention and she pulled away. Fitz gave her a confused expression before they both looked towards the sky as they listened carefully.  

“What is that?” he asked.

The humming sound grew louder and within a few seconds, Jemma could sense it was coming directly from the side of the truck. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she lifted herself up, Fitz following her movements.

Hovering next to the truck was what Jemma could only describe as a miniature version of the shell, its shape and composition the same except for a small window on the outside. It was large enough for only one person to fit inside, and before she could turn to Fitz, Jemma already understood its purpose.  

“It’s not going to end this way,” she said before pushing herself off the edge of the truck, landing softly on her feet.

“What?” Fitz looked at her in confusion, climbing out himself.

Zipping up her jacket, she turned back to him. “It’s not meant to end this way. And I won’t let it.”

“What are you mean?”

“They want to see me. The Heptapods.”

Fitz shook his head. “How-how do you know that?”

“I just do,” She moved back towards him and gripped his arms. “Do whatever you can to stall them inside the base. Hopefully, this won’t take long.” She turned to leave, but he pulled her back.  

“Jemma, wait.”

“We’re too close, Fitz,” she pleaded. “I need to get back to the shell.”   

“What are you going to do?”

“Ask them about the weapon. I don’t need any equipment. We’re fluent enough to understand each other, and I’ll report back my findings.”

“But what if something happens?”

“I’ll be fine,” Letting out a short breath, she squeezed his forearms. “Do you trust me?”

He hesitated for a moment, fear clearly visible behind his eyes, but he lowered his gaze and nodded. “Yes.”

“Then wait for me. I’m coming back. I promise.”

Before she could let go, he brought his hand up to cup her cheek, tracing his thumb across her cheekbone. “Just…” He paused and pulled her into his chest, pressing his lips against her crown before releasing her quickly. “Be careful.”

She nodded, putting on a brave face before turning towards the shuttle. He helped her step inside, and a shuddering breath escaped her as it sealed shut. Looking out the small window, she could just make out Fitz’s worried expression as the shuttle slowly started to travel upwards toward the shell.

It was the only time she’d ever visited the Heptapods alone, and as she tried to control her breathing as best she could, she pressed her hands against the walls of the shuttle to keep her balance. But before she could even take in a deep breath, a faint hissing sound came from the bottom of the shuttle, and Jemma watched in horror as a white gas started to fill the small space. She tried to cover her mouth with her hands and her jacket, but it was too late, the air around her already filling with the mysterious substance. It was only a few seconds before she was forced to inhale, and her knees nearly gave out as she tried to breathe normally, the foreign air causing her throat to burn as her head started to spin.

As she frantically tried to catch her breath, she almost moved toward the window of the shuttle in a desperate attempt to alert Fitz about what was happening. But then, everything stopped. The sudden dizziness escaped her senses, the substance no longer felt as if it was suffocating her, and she could take in normal breaths with ease. It was then that she realized the new atmosphere around her looked familiar. She simply didn’t realize it sooner because it was always behind a barrier.

The substance wasn’t meant to poison her. It was meant to prepare her. Because she wasn’t just going to visit the Heptapods inside the shell. For the first time, she was going to truly see them up close and personal.


	7. Chapter 7

Unlike Jemma’s previous trips up to the shell with Fitz, the small shuttle didn’t take her up the main opening of the shell. Instead, it travelled towards the top where there was a small opening just large enough for the shuttle to fit inside. Once it was clear of the opening, the window fogged up and Jemma could no longer see where the shuttle was taking her, but eventually, the small craft came to a sudden stop.

When the door of her small shuttle opened, Jemma felt a wave of anxiety pass through her as she inhaled, taking in the new atmosphere. Just as the Heptapods floated throughout the shell, Jemma found herself nearly weightless, her hair and the ends of her jacket moving freely about her as if she were underwater as she slowly descended towards the solid ground of the shell. When she found her footing on what looked like ice crystals, she took a few careful steps forward, looking from side to side at her surroundings. Without any visible ceiling or walls, the space appeared like an endless void, the white fog blurring everything around her. Jemma squinted to try to make out any sudden movements around her, but without any sense of direction, she already felt turned around.  

It was strange being there without Fitz, his presence always giving her the courage to move forward, to ask new questions, to seek out the unknown. But even without him there physically, she could still feel his presence in her mind. She could see him clearly, the image of his face close to hers as they lay together in the bed of the truck, and it calmed her, knowing he was just outside the shell waiting for her.

Feeling a new sense of courage, she let out a slow breath and looked up, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious beings within the vast expanse of the shell.

“Hello?” she called out, keeping her voice even to not startle the beings, wherever they were. “I’m here. It’s just me.”

Off many meters away, she saw a slight movement deep within the fog. She turned and found the faint outline of a Heptapod swaying towards her, its movements steady and familiar from her time observing them in the shell. Jemma lifted her arm up, the same motion she used to originally summon the beings from behind the glass barrier and outstretched her hand in a friendly gesture.

“I know you don’t want to hurt us. I know that’s not your purpose.”

Slowly turning her other hand over in front of her, she took in the foggy atmosphere and continued to exhale slowly.

“But you have to help me understand, because I think I’m the only one that will listen.” She paused, thinking back to what she told Fitz about her reason for visiting the Heptapods one last time. As much as she needed to learn about their offered weapon, she also hoped to make sense of something she couldn’t explain through language. “Help me understand what I’m seeing.”

At last, one of the Heptapods emerged from the fog, floating just a few meters away. Jemma could recognize it immediately as the one Fitz had named Peggy, and with a slight movement of one of its limbs, the Heptapod waved in Jemma’s direction. It then produced a symbol for Jemma’s name, the swirling ink traveling to appear right in front of her. Reaching out, Jemma faintly touched the ink with her fingers and was amazed to see that she could almost manipulate it herself.

Smiling widely, Jemma looked up at Peggy. “Please help me understand,” she said. Taking a few cautious steps forward, the swirling ink following her movement, Jemma started to manipulate the ink until she could transform it into the last symbol she translated. She couldn’t explain how she did it, only that the ink seemed to know she understood the language and transformed accordingly. Satisfied with the shape of the symbol she created, Jemma looked back up at Peggy and nodded towards the symbol. “You said ‘offer weapon.’ What does this mean?”

As her question hung in the air, Peggy swayed in front of Jemma until the Heptapod was just a few meters away. Finally, the Heptapod released two swirls of ink, each traveling through the atmosphere to settle at Jemma’s eye level. When the first symbol settled to her left, she tilted her head, understanding its translation but confused by its meaning.

 

**_Jemma has weapon._ **

 

Jemma then looked to her right and watched the second symbol settle into place, its translation instantly entering her mind.

 

**_Use weapon._ **

 

“I don’t… I don’t understand. Help me understand. What weapon?”

From behind Peggy, Jemma could see the second Heptapod coming into view, moving in a faster sweeping motion across the foggy space. Now with both of their attention, Jemma tried again with the question that started the entire mission. “What is your purpose on Earth?”

Together, the two Heptapods released more swirling black ink. In most cases, they would wait for Jemma to interpret each symbol before moving on to the next, but now they produced them more freely, creating a collection of unique symbols in front of Jemma’s eyes. Looking back and forth between the many symbols, she took her time to focus on their meaning.

 

**_We help humanity._ **

 

**_In three thousand years, we need humanity help._ **

 

**_We offer weapon._ **

 

**_Language is weapon._ **

 

Sighing deeply, Jemma let a soft smile fill her face. “It’s not really a weapon,” she said through a chuckle. “It’s a gift.” As she processed this information, she brought her hand up to her forehead, relieved in knowing the Heptapods truly weren’t a threat. But with this conformation came new questions, so Jemma set her lips into a hard line and shook her head. “But how can you know you need our help? How can you know the future?”

Within seconds, Steve then produced another swirl of ink, which transformed into a new unique symbol.

 

**_Weapon opens time._ **

 

Letting out a shallow breath, Jemma focused intently on the symbol. “Opens… time.” Thinking back to their previous discoveries about the language, she’d remembered how the symbol for time would randomly show up in their conversations, but she never thought much of it. But now it made sense.

A language that worked the same way forward and backward. A language that allowed one to see time differently. Just as the language wasn’t linear, neither was time.

With a hesitant step forward, she looked up at her companions. “What am I seeing?” she asked slowly. But even as she asked the question, Jemma could already anticipate the Heptapods’ answer.

The previous symbols dissolved into the atmosphere, and then Peggy waved her limb and a new swirl of ink appeared in front of Jemma. As the ink settled into place, Jemma felt as if her heart would burst from her chest.

 

**_Jemma sees future._ **

 

The air quickly vanished from Jemma’s lungs, and before she could fully comprehend the symbol’s meaning, an intense rush traveled through her mind and body as a flood of images came crashing through her all at once. Jemma groaned and brought her hands to her head, nearly losing her balance as she tried and failed to focus on a single one, the images flashing by too quickly to truly see what was happening. With nothing to hold onto, she crouched down and brought her head between her knees, trying to breathe as the images nearly became too much for her to bear.

Eventually, the flashes began to slow to a point where Jemma could focus on them individually before one washed away and transformed into the next. The more she focused on her breathing and steadying herself, the more details she could make out from each image until she could see them with perfect clarity.

First, she saw herself at five years old. She’d always remembered their family cottage with its large garden and beautiful summers, but she could never remember it in this much detail. In the image, she watched her younger self running up to her mother at their front door, a small bundle of flowers in her hand. Her hair was in a braid down her back, loose waves falling around her face, her young cheeks bright and pink.  

In another image, she saw herself sitting on a stool inside a classroom. A group of small children surrounded her as she listened to their conversations and watched them write. Jemma instantly recognized the version of herself in the image, remembering how she was still so young and full of wonder during the early years of her career.

The next images came in quick flashes and out of order. She saw herself at sixteen on the day she left her family cottage to travel to America. With only a suitcase in hand and a dream, she didn’t know that day how it would take her many years to return home, how the real world would be vastly different from what she always imagined. She could still see the slight sadness in her mother’s eyes as she wheeled her suitcase behind her, walking down the path away from her old life.   

She saw herself inside the shell, her hand against the glass barrier, Fitz looking on at her side. When she turned to him, his smile was contagious. Together, looking up in awe as the first symbols of the mysterious language transformed before their eyes, their partnership was just beginning to blossom into something extraordinary.

She saw herself at university, her hair in a tight ponytail, a sea of notes, books, and empty mugs scattered across a desk in the library. It was almost two in the morning and she saw herself exactly as she remembered – quiet and very much alone.

And then the images changed. In all the previous ones, she recognized herself in the memories – some still fresh inside her head and others previously long forgotten. But Jemma didn’t recognize the scene now consuming her mind. She’d only seen a glimpse of it before in a previous vision, but never in this much detail to truly see what was happening.

The house was bright with soft shades of blue on every surface. There was a piano in the corner and bookshelves along with wall with volumes Jemma couldn’t remember from her current collection. But in the center of the living room was what held her attention. She remembered the little girl from seeing her swimming in the lake, writing her name, breaking the chalk. She remembered her painting, her desire to learn languages, her questions about her father. From afar, the girl was a small version of herself, always running, always curious. But now she could see all the small features that made her special. It was the first time Jemma could truly see the girl’s face, to notice the details of her freckles across her cheeks, her wide smile, but more than anything, her bright blue eyes. In an instant, Jemma recognized those eyes, and before she could catch her breath, the image continued to play out inside her head.

Kneeling beside the little girl sitting at her play table was an older version of herself. “Did you paint a picture?” she asked the girl before reaching over to touch her arm.

Jemma watched as the girl placed her paintbrush in the cup of water on the table, and then turned her picture around, holding it up gently to not allow the paint to drip down.  

“Yep. It’s called Mummy and Daddy and the animals.”

Unlike the last time she saw the image, Jemma could see the painting clearly now: a man, a woman, and two figures Jemma would recognize anywhere: Peggy and Steve.

Jemma watched her older self’s eyes light up as she took in the picture. “Aww, you love the animals, don’t you?”

“I wish I knew how to talk to them.” The girl placed the picture down on her play-table and crossed her arms in a pout. “Can you teach me?”

“Not today. But maybe someday. How about we find a place on the wall to hang this up when it dries that way Daddy can see it when he gets home?”

“Let’s do it.”

As the girl reached up to hang the painting up on the wall, a voice called out from another room.

“Did someone call my name?”

The man’s voice came from the direction of the kitchen, and when he turned the corner, a gasp escaped Jemma’s throat when she finally saw him. He had more scruff on his face and broader shoulders, but for the most part, he looked exactly the same. As he walked into the living room, Jemma brought her fingers to her lips and breathed out his name.

“Daddy!” the little girl squealed. As she ran to him, Fitz lifted her up and balanced her on his hip.

“Ah, I missed you. But I wasn’t gone that long, right? Just a few days.” After kissing her cheek, the girl – their daughter, Jemma realized –  wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head against his.

Her older self rushed forward and brought her hand to Fitz’s cheek. “I didn’t know you were going to be home so soon.”

“Coulson let me off early, said we could finish up the designs next week.”

“I’m glad.”

As Jemma watched the small family embrace, the image soon dissolved into dozens of others just like it. In one, the three of them were at the lake, Fitz teaching their daughter how to skip stones. In another, they were curled up on the sofa in their living room, an enormous bowl of popcorn sitting on their daughter’s lap as the glow of the television reflected off their faces. As the images played out, Jemma could hear their voices overlapping as well, recognizing bits and pieces of conversations she’s previously heard when she thought her mind was playing tricks on her.

_“How am I ridiculous? I feel like ‘magnificent’ is a better term.”_

_“You’re so confident it’s a she.”_

_“I had a feeling you would be in my life for a long time.”_

Just when the images and voices overlapped to a point where they were incoherent, Jemma heard a faint melody coming from deep inside her mind. It grew louder as she tried to focus on it, the sound eventually transforming into a new image.

A string quartet accompanied a large banquet hall filled with people of many ethnicities, all gathered together to enjoy each other’s company in a celebration of some sort. Nations’ flags were hung along the back wall, along with a single flag in the middle that displayed a Heptapod symbol. Jemma saw herself standing on a balcony inspecting the scene, looking as if she were waiting for the arrival of a guest. This version of herself looked more sophisticated, the evening gown certainly the most expensive piece she’d ever worn. And beyond the gown, Jemma also noticed a glaringly obvious change in her appearance – the sparkling engagement ring sitting on her finger.

As the image continued, a man walked up to her on the balcony. He was well dressed in a dark suit, clearly an important guest at the event. Trailing behind him were two women carrying spears, both keeping a watchful eye on the man’s movements and those who interacted with him. Resting his hand on the railing, he turned to Jemma and smiled. “Dr. Simmons,” he said. “A pleasure.”

The Jemma in the image nodded, giving him a kind smile. “Your highness. The pleasure is mine, truly.”

In watching the small exchange, Jemma instantly recognized the man. She’d seen his face on the news many times before, recognizing him as the new King of Wakanda.

“Congratulations,” he added, gesturing towards her left hand.

“Oh, thank you,” she replied, cradling her hand against her chest.  

“That one means ‘hope’, is that correct?” the King continued, nodding towards the flag displaying the Heptapod symbol hung at the center of the room.

“Yes, you’re right.”

“It was a great comfort to know that in due time, our nations would find peace. And here we are.”

Jemma watched herself smile and nod, looking a bit nervous about speaking with such an important figure.

The King leaned against the balcony, gazing down at a display near the center of the room. Jemma didn’t notice it before, but she now recognized herself in some of the photographs on display. She could just make out her and Fitz’s faces amongst others from their S.H.I.E.L.D. team in one of the photographs. And along with some shots of the shell sites, there were also a few of her in lecture halls where she appeared to be teaching the language.

Pointing toward the display, King T’Challa nodded. “Heptapod – the Universal Language. I haven’t read your book, but it’s on my list.”

The Jemma on the balcony chuckled, smiling widely at the King’s remarks.

“You know,” he went on, “I do not normally attend gatherings of this sort. I’m not really one for extravagant celebrations.”

“That’s something we have in common.”

“When your President invited me, he said he was honored to host me at this event. But I have to confess – the only reason I’m here is to meet you in person.”

She gave him a surprised expression. “Me? Well, I’m flattered. Thank you. It really is an honor to meet you as well.”

“It truly was extraordinary how you found a solution during such a time of chaos.”

At his words, Jemma noticed how the version of herself in the image seemed to suddenly lose her focus, her eyes looking over the King’s shoulder as if she were in a far-off place.  

“18 months ago,” he explained. “You did something remarkable.” He brought her attention back to him, and then moved closer to her side. “With just a few simple words, you gained my trust. You don’t give yourself enough credit for how important you are to this story.”

“My apologies, I...” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just having a bit of trouble remembering exactly how we got here in the first place.”

“You don’t remember? You called me on my private number.”

“I-I don’t know your private numb—”

Before she could finish, T’Challa reached his hand inside his suit pocket and pulled out a small mobile phone. After pressing a few buttons, he faced it towards her, letting her read the number off the small screen.

“ _Now_ you know,” he told her. “I do not claim to know how your mind works, but I believe it was important for you to see that.”

Jemma could see the realization crossing over her own face before she nodded. “Yes, it was important.” After letting out a shuddering breath, she continued. “I called you, didn’t I?”

The King nodded. “Yes, you did.”

“And I told you something.”

“Yes. You told me something that allowed me to trust you completely. And with that trust, you gave me proof that what the Heptapods gave you was genuine, that their language allowed you to see time differently.”

“It’s not linear.”

“As you once described it to me, it’s everything at once.” He leaned forward then and lowered his voice. “Do you know what you told me when you called me that day?”

The Jemma in the image lowered her eyes as she seemed to search her mind, but just as the King was about to whisper in her ear, the image dissolved, transforming into the foggy atmosphere of the shell.

Jemma gasped as she came back to herself, finding herself staring back at the Heptapods. Struggling to catch her breath, she nearly doubled over, feeling sick to her stomach as her mind raced, it now overflowing with so much information. But through all her overwhelming thoughts, she managed to focus on the last symbol settling in front of her.

 

**_Jemma use weapon._ **

 

Closing her eyes, she nodded, understanding what she needed to do. Fitz had been right all along. It was going to come down to the two of them.

She couldn’t respond verbally, too overcome by her revelation, so she simply opened her eyes and mouthed ‘thank you’ before she carefully stepped backwards in search of the small shuttle.

Eventually, she found the craft and stepped inside, taking one last look and offering a kind wave before it sealed shut. Sinking heavily against the solid walls of the shuttle, she placed her hand on her chest and felt her heart frantically beating as she continued to process everything she’d discovered. But as much as she tried to focus on the Heptapods’ true purpose, the gift that was their language, and what she needed to do once she touched back down on Earth, she couldn’t move past the images that now settled inside her mind. Her life after her current mission. The home she would share with Fitz. Their child.

It didn’t take long for the shuttle to return her safely on solid ground, and she wasn’t surprised to look through the small window to find Fitz waiting there, a pickup truck with Mack behind the wheel idling a few meters away. A look of utter relief consumed his features as the shuttle finally settled onto the ground, and when it hissed and released its lock on the door, Jemma stumbled out and he was already racing forward, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked her frantically.

Jemma could only nod, words seeming not enough to describe her current state.

“Alright, come on, we have to hurry.”

“What’s going on?” she managed to get out, her eyes struggling to focus on his face. Over his shoulder, she could just make out heavy activity coming from the base, agents packing up supplies and vehicles leaving.

“They’re already evacuating. Russia and Sudan released statements. They’re following China.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he started to guide her towards the truck.

“What, _no._ I have–I have to…” She could still see everything, all the images at once, preventing her mind from focusing on what was right in front of her. She tried to reach for his hand, looking for something solid to hold onto, but he was moving too fast.

“Jemma? Hey, are you okay?”

“I…” Before she can get the sentence out, she stumbled forward and felt his arms immediately supporting her at the waist.

“Easy, I’ve got you.” He urged her to drape her arm across his shoulders and reached up to cradle her head, keeping her steady. “What is it? Did something happen?”

 _Yes_ , she wanted to answer. _So much_ . But a single word couldn’t explain to him what she was going through, so she closed her eyes and allowed herself to give in to the images, or _memories_ as she now realized what she was seeing. They still came in flashes, a million small glimpses of moments that were so far off in her timeline, her mind struggling to process what to do with an entire life’s worth of memories. But even through her confusion at seeing so much at once, she could pick out so many emotions and moments she never imagined she’d experience in her future. A partner in her career that she adored. Someone to share in all her discoveries and interests. A friendship and love for a single person so strong that they would raise a family together. And when she opened her eyes, she saw him. Not just the man she met on the helicopter. Not just the agent staying by her side through the highs and lows of translating the complex alien language. Now she saw him through the beginning, the end, and all the moments in between.

As she gazed at him, her lower lip starting to quiver, he tilted his head, giving her a look of concern. “Jemma, what’s is it?”

Shaking her head, she surged forward to throw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. He stood frozen for only a moment before he surrendered to her embrace, stroking his hand up and down her back in soothing movements. Breathing in deeply, she cherished the feeling of his rapid pulse against her skin as tears slowly streamed down her cheeks. Since growing closer to him, she’d imagined what it would be like to hold each other in this way, to truly melt into one another without the fear of moving too fast. Yet as she gave in to those feelings for the first time, they were suddenly so familiar. When he pulled her in as close to himself as possible, as if they were letting go of all their worries and fears to inhabit a world that only existed for the two of them, she was reminded of so many similar moments still yet to come.

He held her this way during their first night together in their new home, their journey as partners in their careers and in life just getting started. He held her this way when a mission had gone wrong, he wasn’t picking up his phone when she frantically called, and he almost didn’t come back to her. He held her this way for no reason in particular other than wanting to hold her, the twists and turns of their lives weighing heavily on her even though she knew for certain they would be okay.

For Jemma, this safe and surreal feeling of him holding her was more than she could even comprehend. She was completely surprised by this new feeling, yet at the same time, her mind already knew exactly what it would feel like the moment it happened. And as she nuzzled closer to his skin, his arms tightening around her, she couldn’t stop herself from whispering, “I forgot how good it felt to be held by you.”

She could feel him turning his head slightly as they continued in their embrace, and she realized her words would mean nothing to him, at least not yet. Tilting her head to meet his eyes, she found him looking down at her like he didn’t quite know what to make of her words. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he asked a silent question with his eyes.

“Never mind,” she mumbled, resuming her place against his neck, daring to press her lips there ever so softly.

“Fitz!” Mack called from the driver’s seat. “We’ve got to get back before they realize we’re gone.”

“Okay, come on,” he said, tucking the blanket more securely around her frame before ushering her towards the truck. Once they were both bundled up together in the backseat, Mack sped off towards the base.

With Fitz’s arm wrapped around her, Jemma rested her head against his shoulder. “Did they tell you?” he whispered, squeezing her arm gently. “About the weapon?”

She nodded her head slowly, still trying to control her breathing. “Yeah, I need to…” She closed her eyes, her mind still holding on to the final image she saw before she left the shell.

“What? What do you need?”

She looked up to meet his eyes. “I need to make a phone call.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last full length chapter! Thank you so much for reading and supporting this fic, especially those who left comments along the way. It really means a lot to me. 
> 
> In this chapter, a rather important plot point involves me changing one _tiny_ detail from the events of Captain America: Civil War. I’ll explain it at the end of the chapter if you miss it, but you should be able to understand the fic without catching this change (or even seeing that movie tbh). 
> 
> Enjoy!

Jemma was already opening the truck’s door before the vehicle came to a complete stop outside the base, pulling on Fitz’s arm so he would follow her. As they had driven in silence, Fitz rubbing her back to get rid of the chill still traveling through her since her time inside the shell, Jemma’s mind had raced through what she needed to accomplish in such a short amount of time. When she slipped out of the truck and faced the base, she could already see her chances of pulling off what she needed to do slipping away from her. Military personnel were already ordering S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to load up trucks with equipment, and for all she knew, she may be sent to evacuate once she stepped inside. But she couldn’t let herself think such thoughts, not with the solution right in front of her.

“Careful,” Fitz warned her, landing on his feet next to her as Mack turned off the ignition.

“Their language – that’s the weapon,” she told him, already moving towards the closest entrance to the base.

She wanted to tell him everything – the Heptapods’ true purpose, how the language opened time and allowed her to see everything at once, and how exactly she was determined to stop the other nations from using military force against the shells. But at that moment, she didn’t have time for details. More than anything, she simply needed his trust.

Still feeling a bit hazy from her time spent in the shell, she moved with a careful purpose, pulling Fitz along once he caught up to her and grasped her hand. She took it earnestly, his presence now so much more than a comfort during her time of stress.

“So, they’re not harmful?” he asked, struggling to keep up.

“Right, they’re our friends. They said they’re going to need our help far off in the future, so in exchange, they’re giving us their language.”

“What’s so special about it?” Mack asked, slamming his truck door shut before following them.

“It’s hard to explain.” She could sense Fitz giving her a knowing look, but she continued on. “But I can read it. And the Heptapods want us to work together, I’m assuming. That’s why they’re so spread out with twelve shells around the world. It’s a universal language.”  

“So, how do we convince the other eleven sites that they’re not a threat?” Mack asked her.

“I know what to do. I just need to make one call.” She turned towards the entrance, but Fitz grabbed her sleeve, holding her back.

“Jemma, wait. They confiscated all our phones. It’s too late.”

She shook her head frantically. “It can’t be. I-I know what I have to do. I can fix this.”

“How?”

“It’s difficult to explain.”

“Jemma, what is it? Please, just… tell me what it is and maybe I can help.”

She glanced briefly up at Mack before moving closer to Fitz and placing her hands on his shoulders, his own hands resting on her waist. “I will tell you everything,” she whispered. “ _Everything_. I promise. But first, I need to make this call, so help me find a working phone.”

Fitz nodded, looking reluctant to let the matter rest, but determined to follow her lead.

“Come on,” Mack urged them, gesturing towards the entrance. “They’re probably looking for us inside.”

When they finally entered the base, their main lab was already being broken down with agents pulling down monitors and shutting down electronics, soldiers shouting orders left and right. The space Jemma considered home for the last few months was now disappearing before her eyes, and she couldn’t help but squeeze Fitz’s hand a little bit tighter, taking comfort in that she wasn’t losing everything. Once they cleared the doorway, she began her frantic search for a phone that wasn’t already disconnected.

“I’ll go look in some of the other labs,” Mack told them before hurrying out the door.

When the two of them glanced to the back corner to her desk, an agent was unplugging her computer and stacking up her notes and files into a crate.

“Hey, don’t touch that!” Fitz shouted, striding forward and pulling on the agent’s wrist. The agent gave him an apologetic look, but he continued in packing up the contents of Jemma’s desk.

“It’s okay,” Jemma told him softly. “They’re under orders.”

“Yeah, well, it’s still your work,” he replied, his voice filled with annoyance.  

She nodded before turning to the other side of the lab where electronics were being packed up by other agents. She scanned the tables in search of any sort of phone, letting her fingers trail across the surface, quickly coming up short and moving to search other parts of the lab.

“Jemma,” Fitz said behind her.

“Fitz, please. I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s not hard to explain, is it? The language.” At his words, she paused and turned to face him. She could tell he knew more than he let on. They just didn’t have time to get into that discussion at the moment. Closing the distance between them, Jemma reached forward and clutched his hand, bringing it close to her chest.

“I told you I would tell you everything. Please, I-I just need…” She could feel her hand trembling, so she squeezed it tightly around his.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He brought a hand up to her cheek, leaning towards her until their foreheads touched. “Just breathe. I believe you.”

Rubbing her lips together, she nodded. “I know you do.”

Suddenly, Jemma felt a hand on her shoulder, and before she could look up, Mack shoved something into her hand. “Oh, thank god,” she muttered under her breath. She clutched the satellite phone to her stomach, pushing it up her jacket sleeve before giving Fitz a determined nod.  

“Don’t tell anyone where you got that,” Mack warned her.  

“Of course. Thank you.”  

Mack then placed his hands on her and Fitz’s shoulders before leaning forward and lowering his voice. “Make two rights and a left. No one should see you there. I’ll keep watch.”

“Okay,” Jemma said, nodding.

“And hurry. I think the director’s looking for you two. He may have figured out that we left the base.”

“Alright, come on,” Fitz said, leading the way.

As they raced down the corridor, Jemma tried to shift her focus to the images running through her mind, scanning through her memories for the scene on the balcony. She couldn’t pinpoint the moment precisely, but she could still remember the phone number King T’Challa showed her from repeating it to herself again and again since leaving the shell.

“Who are you calling?” Fitz whispered urgently.  

Jemma held up her index finger as she quickly dialed the number and pressed the phone to her ear, letting her hair fall over her hand to obscure her actions from other passing agents. As they turned the last corner, they found themselves in the clean room where they previously went through the decontamination process after visiting the shell.

“Quick, let’s get inside,” Fitz said, gesturing her forward.

Brushing past the hanging plastic tarps and shuffling through the door, Jemma then huddled against the wall of the small room, her phone still glued to her ear. She closed her eyes, focusing on the images in her mind. “Come on,” she breathed, the last piece of the puzzle still missing from inside her head.  

After hitting the lock button against the wall, Fitz stood nervously near the glass door, shifting his gaze towards the corridor every few moments to keep watch.

“Come on, what’d I say?” Jemma whispered to herself.  She didn’t know how it worked – how to get her mind to focus on a single image amongst the thousands that now lived inside her head. She could hold onto glimpses as they traveled back to the base– the engagement ring on her finger, the flags on the wall – but never for very long. It was only when she closed her eyes and exhaled slowly that she could finally start to see it clearly once again. Hearing the classical music in her mind, she could see her future self still looking puzzled as she stood next to the King, him leaning forward as he spoke, his voice low.

 _“I will never forget what you said,”_ he told her.

A commotion from the other side of the room brought her out of her head, and Jemma turned to see soldiers coming in their direction, Mack hastily trying to get them to slow down. She assumed they would find her. It was only a matter of time before they recognized one of their phones dialing Wakanda.

“Jemma,” Fitz warned, his eyes wide.

She looked up at him, her face filled with desperation. “Give me one minute.”

“I don’t think we have that much—”

“Do you trust me?” she cut him off.

“What? Yes, of course.”

“Then stall them,” she pleaded.  

She saw the shift in his expression, the one that told her he would do whatever he could to buy her enough time. Still, it wasn’t enough to still the anxiety stirring in her stomach. Closing her eyes again, she listened as the dial tone continued on, her heart now hammering inside her chest as she nervously waited to hear the voice on the other end of the line. The sounds started the blend together – those from the images inside her mind and from the world around her, and she thought she may lose herself before she even learned exactly what she needed to say.

And the she heard it – a voice at the other end of the line. It was just as she remembered hearing it inside her mind, but now it was mixed with a different sort of urgency and confusion. Swallowing hard, she kept her voice as even as possible as she introduced herself to the Wakandan King in his native tongue. When he asked her why she was calling him, it all came spilling out: the reason for the shells positioned around the world, how the language opened time, and everything else in between.

As she talked the King through everything she knew, she positioned herself away from the door in an attempt to fight off any distractions.

“I thought you said you would hold them off,” she heard Fitz shout through the glass door.

“I tried,” Mack answered, “but they were already tracing the call.”

Two soldiers suddenly shoved Mack out of the way and raised their rifles at the door.

“No! Don’t shoot!” Fitz yelled, moving to shield Jemma with his body and holding his arms up against the door.

Jemma jumped at Fitz’s sudden outburst and crouched down, cupping the phone close to her ear to try to keep the outside shouts from invading her call. Squeezing her eyes shut, she focused in on the image until she could see the King leaning towards her on the balcony. She felt like she was watching the image in slow motion, the King’s movements nearly blurred until she finally heard him clearly.

_“You told me my father’s dying words.”_

“Fitz, move out of the way,” Glancing up and over Fitz’s shoulder, Jemma could see Coulson standing between the soldiers with his own gun drawn. “I’m ordering her to drop that phone now.”

“She knows what she’s doing,” Fitz insisted.

“That’s not her call to make. Who is she talking to?”

“I don’t know. But if you would just _wait_ , she can explain everything.”

 _Come on,_ Jemma pleaded with herself, realization hitting her that she was truly running out of time. _What did I say?_

“We have orders, Fitz,” Coulson continued.

“I promise you, she’s making things right. You just have to trust her.”

And then amongst the heavy shouts of the soldiers demanding that she drop the phone and Fitz frantically trying to fight them off, she heard the words whispered in her ear. Slowly, the King inside her mind placed his hand on the balcony, leaned into Jemma’s ear, and said the words she could only learn from him personally. Jemma gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she listened to the words clearly inside her head.

Without hesitation, she recited the words into the phone exactly as she heard them. For a moment, there was only silence on the other end of the line, Jemma holding her breath as she awaited the King’s response. Fitz was still buying her time, the poor soul, slamming his hand against the glass to get the soldiers to lower their guns. But she couldn’t hear the shouts anymore, her mind solely focused on waiting for the King’s next move. After a few seconds more, just as she was starting to doubt her actions and everything she’d learned from the Heptapods, she heard the King clear his throat.  

“I would only share that with someone I trust,” he said to her, his voice a mix of calm and disbelief.

“I know,” she said softly, a small smile creeping onto her face as she brought her fingers to her lips. She cleared her throat, speaking her next words with conviction. “Which is why you can trust that I’m telling you the truth. You will trust me in the future. So please, trust me now when I say that the Heptapods are not a threat.”

“As you said, they are offering us a gift.”

“Yes. Their language, it’s not a weapon. It’s a gift.”

There was a pause, and through the silence, she locked eyes on Fitz. He looked more terrified than she’d ever seen him before, but somehow, he also seemed calm, as if he knew it would always come to something like this.

“Fitz! Move! That’s an order.”

“I’m sorry,” he told Coulson, shaking his head, his gaze still focused on Jemma. His voice was pained but strong. “I can’t do that. If you want to get to her, you’ll have to shoot me.”

Jemma let out a shaky breath. She was still processing how to make sense of the images inside her mind, so she couldn’t recall seeing this moment – the one where Fitz would put himself in the line of fire just to keep her safe. It astonished her how someone could be so selfless towards her after only a few months, but then again, it was _Fitz_. And somehow, that’s all she needed to know for it to make sense.

To her great relief, she then heard the King’s voice speaking into her ear. “Thank you, Dr. Simmons,” he said calmly. “And if what you say is true, I will speak with you again soon.”

Jemma smiled widely, letting out a small chuckle. “Yes, you will.”

The line disconnected and Jemma stood quickly, lifting her hands above her head. “It’s done!” The phone still clutched in her hand, she moved next to Fitz so Coulson and the soldiers could see her. “It’s done,” she repeated.

Fitz turned to her, his eyes filled with alarm as he continued to shield her from the door. At Coulson’s nod, the soldiers slowly lowered their weapons, and Jemma and Fitz let out matching sighs of relief. He pulled her against him in a rush, his forehead dropping to her shoulder, and for the first time, she felt as if she was holding him up, gently whispering in his ear that they were alive and okay.

Over Fitz’s shoulder, she watched Coulson eyeing her carefully, but she could sense he was more amazed than angry. “Someone get me the Secretary of Defense on the line,” he said. “I’ll have to explain all this.”  

 

 

\-----

 

 

“You okay?” Fitz asked her, his finger tracing lines on the concrete floor in the space between them.

Together, they sat in the hallway outside the lab as they waited for a word from the director.  Their stunt, as they overheard Coulson describing it to one of his superiors over the phone, was buying them a little time to breathe as they assumed the various nations discussed the situation with the Wakandan King. They didn’t know exactly how he would act after his private call with Jemma. She knew things would be okay, of course. She saw the UN celebration not far off in the future, and so many moments before it. And eventually, she’d sort through everything once she knew what to make of seeing her entire future at once. But it didn’t make the waiting any easier. So for now, they sat, Jemma finding Fitz surprisingly quiet after their last intense few moments together.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she answered calmly. “And you?”

“Nearly had a half dozen heart attacks back there,” he said through a laugh, “but I think I’m alright.”

Jemma rested her chin on her knees and sighed. “I’m sorry to put you through that. I know it was a bit… dramatic.”

“No, it’s fine. We sorted it out.” He reached up to scratch his jaw. “So, do you think it worked?”

She gave him a half shrug, a slight smile forming on her face. “I hope so.”

“Well, hope is better than nothing.”

Beyond the mission, her part now complete, all Jemma could think about was the small distance now between them as they sat on the floor and how easily she could close it with just a shift of her weight. But as small a distance as it was, it still felt like a leap, a part of her still uncertain about what had blossomed between them. Despite knowing what was to come for them, the images so much clearer now, the knowledge of their future was still just a small reassurance for her feelings. They didn’t tell her how to find the strength to make those feelings known.  But she knew for certain that silence wasn’t going to get them anywhere.

She turned to him, collecting every bit of courage she had within her, and reached for his hand. “We never really finished our conversation,” she said softly, her eyes on their hands. “Before I went up to the shell.”

Lifting her head, he found him just staring at her, and Jemma couldn’t decipher the look on his face. If anything, he looked just as nervous as she.  

“Right.” He hesitated for a moment, the words seeming to be on the tip of his tongue as he leaned towards her. “Jemma, I—”

The sound of a commotion alerted their attention down the hall. Mack poked his head around the corner from the lab. “Guys, come quick.”

Jemma and Fitz glanced at each other, and then rushed to the lab to take in the scene. They stopped in the doorway when they saw agents gathered around one of the remaining monitors still hung up in the lab, watching a breaking news alert crossing the screen. As the screen changed, they watched as the young King of Wakanda moved to stand behind a podium to speak to a collection of leaders from around the world.

“I have just been informed about some important developments about our situation with the shuttles,” he said into the camera. “A source close to these unknown beings has informed me that the purpose of their arrival is not that of violence, or hate, or destruction. Their purpose is to help and to inspire us to come together as nations in peace. The frequent attacks on our nations from outsiders has created a fear unlike any other in our citizens. Fear of the different, the unknown, as well as a fear of each other. But if we want to keep our citizens safe from true threats, we must understand the difference between those that want to harm us and those that want to help us.”

As they watched the King speak, Jemma linked her arm through Fitz’s, feeling her eyes grow misty.  

“Therefore,” the King continued, “I advise all nations to halt military troops from engaging with these shuttles. I am confident their purpose has been fulfilled, and their occupancy will end if we allow them to depart freely. We are all different nations, but this situation has brought us together like never before. And I see a bright future for all of us. I pray that you share this hope.”

The report ended, and it only took a few moments before an agent stuck his head into the lab. “Secretary of Defense is on the line,” he called out, likely in search of the director. “The President wants all troops to evacuate. They just got word that the other nations are backing down.”

The sound of claps and a few whistles filled the room, with agents glancing towards the pair standing in the doorway. Jemma felt an unfamiliar rush of joy pass through her as she took in the sight, and Fitz wrapped his arm lightly around her shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“You did it,” he whispered in her ear.

With the lab in disarray from the soldiers’ efforts to pack up their equipment, the team spent the next few moments trying to make sense of the mess. Everything was technically S.H.I.E.L.D.’s property now, so Jemma took her time packing away the original photographs, allowing herself to take in each unique symbol as they found a home in her memories.

Coulson stopped by a few minutes later, the tension from his face gone since the last time she saw him through the glass door of the clean room. “We’ve been told to share our findings once we have everything back in order,” he told her. “The other sites are already reopening their communication channels and releasing their data.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said.

“I figure you’re in need of a break, so we’ll catch up with you in a few days to figure out where your assistance is needed and where you fit into all this.”

She nodded, seeing Fitz giving her a quick smile out of the corner of her eye.

“And maybe we’ll continue our conversation,” Coulson added. “About you joining us permanently.”

She looked to the floor only briefly before meeting Coulson’s eyes with a smile. “We’ll see.”

Nodding, he placed his hand on her shoulder, and as he turned to leave, he stopped to look back between the two of them. “Some of the other sites said their shells have already left,” he told them. “So, it should be any moment now.”

Jemma looked to Fitz and saw what she suspected was filling her own face – a look of sad acceptance that the Heptapods were leaving their story.

For the team, the shell’s departure would be the end of just another mission. But for the two of them, she knew it was only the end of the beginning.

 

 

\---

 

 

By the time the shell began to ascend into the clouds, the base was quiet. It was only fitting for the Heptapods to depart just as they arrived – in silence.

The team huddled together outside to watch as the shell tilted on its side before moving towards the sky. Mack told Jemma moments before the departure how their missions usually didn’t end like this. A peaceful farewell, those on both sides left unharmed. Jemma still refused to give herself much credit, but with the way Fitz continued to look at her, completely overcome with what she had accomplished, she couldn’t help but feel a small bit of pride.

They found a place near the back to get the clearest view, the pair left astonished as the shell departed just as quickly as it arrived. Jemma never expected to grow so attached to the mysterious beings, and now as she watched them depart, she found herself overwhelmed with emotion over the relationship that sparked between them over the last few months – a relationship that would give her so much in such a short amount of time. A friend and partner she never expected to encounter, a sense of belonging on a team, and now a completely new way of looking at the world. It was terrifying to see everything laid out before her, the major milestones of her life she had previously only dreamed about. And even if Fitz was right and time couldn’t be changed, she found herself completely embracing every moment she had yet to live through.

It wasn’t long before the shell only existed in their memories, and Jemma led Fitz away from the group as the rest of them trailed back into the base. Tears were already streaming down her cheeks at the sight of the uninhabited night sky, and she turned to Fitz once they found a quiet spot together in the field, collapsing into his chest. His warmth soothed her enough to slow her tears, along with the knowledge that it would not truly be the end of her relationship with the Heptapods. It was only just the beginning.

When she pulled back to see his face, his own eyes shining, she swallowed hard before giving him a bittersweet smile. “I’m gonna miss them.”

“Me too.” With an arm wrapped around her frame, he reached into his back pocket. “I snatched this before they came to evacuate,” he told her, showing her a folded-up piece of paper. “I thought you might want to keep this one.”

She glanced at him curiously as she took the paper between her hands. Unfolding it carefully, she was surprised to see one of the first photographs they took of the language. The symbol was one of the simpler ones with just a few markings around the rim. And though she was fluent now, she didn’t need much knowledge of the language to understand exactly what it said. _Friend._

Her vision blurred as fresh tears collected in her eyes. “Thank you,” she breathed out. “I’ll keep this one safe.”

With the wind picking up, Jemma huddled into Fitz’s side, holding the photograph close to her chest. She didn’t know how long they stood like that, a million images running through her mind, but only one commanding her focus – the moment she was currently living in. As he tightened his hold around her, she could almost feel his energy changing, as if she could feel his mind racing just from the way he stood. After a slow breath, he broke the silence.

“You said you would explain everything.” he finally said. She was almost surprised it took him so long to address the biggest question still hanging in the air, assuming he was letting her come to terms with everything that had happened in the last few hours. With the Heptapods now on their way home, wherever that was in space, she felt ready to finally address the subject.

So she told him. It was much easier to explain without the threat of being shot through a glass door, the beauty that was the Heptapods’ gift, her visions, and all the other wonders that came with the arrival of the shell flowing off her tongue.

He listened to her patiently, and when she finished, a silence hung between them until Fitz let out a shaky breath. “So, you can see your entire life?”

Through an exhale, she nodded. “Once I was fluent in the language, yes. I see time differently now, so I see… everything.”

“Then how did you do it? Convince King T’Challa?”

“I told him something that would let him know he could trust me. Only then was I able to convince him the Heptapods weren’t a threat, that what they were offering us was a gift.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Something only he would share with me. One day when this is all over, we’ll meet again. I know we will. Once I told him that, all the pieces fell into place.”

His expression shifted, and Jemma recognized the familiar twinkle in his eye she’d witnessed more than once during their mission when he came to a particular breakthrough. “It’s sort of like a causal loop paradox. Minus time travel.”

Jemma frowned, not following his response.

“The only reason you were able to get him to trust you in the present,” he explained, “was because you had already seen the solution in the future.”

She nodded slowly, still coming to terms with her new understanding of time. “You’re right. But now my brain hurts.” Leaning forward, she tucked her head into his shoulder as he chuckled lightly. “Back there,” she said into his jacket, her voice more serious. “when you were standing between me and the glass door. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me, but for _that_ , I—”

“There’s no need to thank me,” he insisted. “Because... I knew it was going to work.”

She stiffened against him, taken aback by his words. It was what she suspected all along, but now hearing him possibly admit to it, she didn’t know what to think. When he didn’t immediately elaborate, she turned to see his face and raised her eyebrows. “You saw it?” she asked, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. “As in…”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his gaze soft as he met her eyes. “It’s definitely not as clear as you, but I see parts of it too – what’s to come.” His voice was shaky as he spoke, the realization likely hitting him just as hard as it had for her. “I think I figured it out after you blacked out in the lab. I thought they were just normal dreams before, my mind letting myself imagine what I wanted most. But then I saw something when you collapsed, a moment that seemed too real to be just a dream. That’s when I knew something was off.”

He swallowed hard, holding her more securely in his arms. “It happened a few other times,” he continued, “when you left to go in the shuttle alone, when you were making the call. Maybe it’s because I was worried about you and that’s what triggered it.”

“Yeah, it’s possible. Mine were a bit random at first, but they always somehow aligned with what was happening in the world around me.”

“I would have told you sooner, but I thought you should probably figure it out on your own.”

“I understand. When I was having those flashes, I thought I was just dreaming or losing my mind. I didn’t think… I didn’t think what I was seeing was real. I didn’t think…”

“That she was real,” he finished for her.

Jemma drew in a quick breath. She could see her so clearly now – his eyes and her smile in the most beautiful little human being she’d ever seen. It was the part of her visions that gave her hope, that even when she couldn’t understand what was happening inside her head, she was going to be okay.

“You can see her?” she asked, her voice nearly breaking.

“Only a little,” he replied, his tender gaze causing a lump to form in Jemma’s throat. “But I could never see her long enough to figure it out on my own. It was only when you came back from the shell by yourself and I saw that look on your face, like you’d seen a ghost, that I knew.”

“And… how do you feel about it?” Jemma swallowed as a worrying thought entered her mind – that maybe he wouldn’t want the life they saw inside their heads. He didn’t believe that time could be changed, but maybe he was wrong, and it was more complicated than that. What would the universe do if he chose to walk away at that very moment?

But then his expression softened, and she could see a hint of a smile creeping on his face. “Like everything suddenly makes sense,” he answered. 

Biting her lip, Jemma couldn’t hide her own smile.

“From the moment you took off your hazmat suit,” he said, “I started picturing it – you and me. Little did I know that I would _actually_ start seeing it inside my head. Maybe it was always meant to be this way.”

Jemma smiled freely then, remembering having a similar thought about the two of them not long ago.

“But it’s not just inside my head,” he continued on. “I felt it before I could understand any of the language, so seeing it doesn’t change things. Not for me, anyway.”

At his words, Jemma felt a great weight suddenly lifted off her shoulders. She never truly allowed herself the luxury of thinking about a future for them before she knew what was happening inside her head. But now she didn’t hold back. Because now she could see it in front of her, the image playing out not just inside her head, but right before her eyes.

It took everything in her to not surge forward, desire stirring inside her to finally give in to her instincts and bridge the gap between. But then she saw a quiet sadness in his expression, as if he mirrored her own fears of them not feeling the same way for each other.   

“I know we’ve gotten closer,” he explained, his head hanging slightly as he seemed to prepare himself for the worst, “and I feel like we’ve got something great going between us, but I don’t want to-to _pressure_ you into anything even if you see something that’s already happened.”

“Fitz.”

“And I don’t know how this works, but with what happened today, this seems like even further proof that time is an illusion and the future is fixed—”

“ _Fitz,”_ she cut him off. She could sense him spiraling, so she rested her hands on the sides of his face, willing him to focus on her words. “Yes, I see everything. But it’s still my life. They’re still my choices.” She paused, pressing her lips into a firm line. “And maybe time isn’t fixed. Maybe things will change. But from what I see, I don’t want to change what’s to come.”

He exhaled deeply, his eyes bright. “Neither do I.”

Despite having the entirety of her life now inside her head, there were some details Jemma would never quite remember. Specifically, she wouldn’t remember who leaned in first as she closed her eyes and suddenly found her lips now gently pressed against his.

It started out soft, an almost hesitant exploration of how they fit together and what it meant to finally take that leap of faith, and then it transformed into something much more open and familiar. Moving her hands to settle along his jawline, she gasped against his lips as he pulled her in closer, his hand just creeping under the hem of her jumper at the small of her back. It was thrilling to discover this new side of him in person and not just inside her head. And for Jemma, it was like experiencing hundreds of kisses all at once.

She wasn’t certain if he’d seen them kissing like this further down their timeline, but a part of her didn’t want to know. Maybe their kisses only existed in his imagination, and this was the first time for him getting to experience that exhilarating feeling of letting go. But for her, it would always be a mix of old and new. Old in how their lips seemed to fit together perfectly, two halves always meant to become one. And new in how her breath nearly vanished from her lungs, the electricity that sparked from feeling his hands on her skin, and the desperate need to never let go of him.

When they finally parted, their breaths mixing as they continued to cling to one another, her fingers resting on his cheek, Jemma felt a warmth blooming inside her similar to what she felt when she woke up in the med bay, her hand cradled in his. Something had shifted between them then, and now it was all falling into place.

“What else can you see?” she asked, her voice no more than a whisper.   

“It’s just small glimpses now,” he said, his breath tickling her cheeks, “but I’m sure I’ll see everything eventually. If I keep learning the language.”

“Is that what you want? Because you don’t have to. You can stop.”

He pressed his lips together, a wave of uncertainty washing over his face. “I don’t know if I could handle it, to be honest,” he finally said, the admission seeming almost painful for him. “But I also don’t know what I want. You’re so far in, it’s irreversible now. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, and you shouldn’t have to go through that alone.”

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “We’ll figure it out.”

“What does it feel like?”

“To see everything? It’s daunting, for sure. And it’s not in flashes anymore, like it was in the shell. It’s just… there. But when I say I see everything, I don’t mean _every_ thing, not really. Because I didn’t see this.” Reaching forward, she let her thumb gently sweep across his bottom lip before she leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Or this.” She caught him smiling before she moved to peck his cheek, lingering there for a moment as she felt the warmth spread through his skin. “Or this.” She was about to move his jawline, but then he captured her lips with his before she even got the chance, pulling her up so she stood on her tiptoes. A laugh escaped her throat, suppressed only by his lips, so she reluctantly pulled away, the resulting smile she found on his face leaving her nearly floating.

“See, you can still catch me by surprise,” she said playfully. “And I guess I’ll just take it all one day at a time.”

“Well, then, what do you want to happen tomorrow?”

She paused, looking off towards the night sky where the shell previously hovered, the image of its presence so clear in her mind, she had to remind herself it had already departed. “I don’t know,” she admitted.  “I think that’s for us to decide.”

She then fell into his warm embrace, her arms folding around him effortlessly. With her hand running through the hair at his neck, she took in his slow and steady breaths, his racing heart, and the relief that now draped over the two of them. She closed her eyes, and she almost forgot about her new way of seeing her life. And then she saw them – an identical image of the two of them swaying in the dark, their embrace exactly as it was now. Their house was quiet, the view of the water at night creating a soft blue oasis around their home. She didn’t know exactly when this would happen, when their paths would lead them to this tender peace. But whatever the path, she welcomed it with open arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… T’Challa’s father doesn’t actually have any last words in CACW. I’ll leave it up to your imagination as to what those words were in this universe. (I didn’t feel comfortable explicitly choosing those words myself since that’s a relationship I don’t want to touch, but I like to think he provided T’Challa with a last bit of wisdom in his final moments before passing away.) 
> 
> That’s the end of the main fic, but I’m sure you’re curious about those visions? All (well, _most,_ I should say - it’s her entire life) will be explained in the short (and I mean _short_ ) epilogue, which I will be posting tomorrow. :)


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small Trigger Warning: there’s a major part of the film that I obviously needed to change if I wanted to keep the happy ending tag, but the conflict and questions raised surrounding this plot point were so crucial to the film that I decided to ultimately keep it in to an extent. I keep things really vague, but I did want to give a small warning for brief discussions of child illness. And just as Jemma can be assured that things will be okay through her gift, I can assure _you_ that _everything is okay in the end._ I promise.

She will choose to stay by his side. She will still live in disbelief that the life she dared to imagine for herself is finally a reality, but she will discover so much joy to a point where she can no longer imagine it any other way. And when Coulson asks her a second time to join his team, she will say yes.

He will choose to not know, to live with the few glimpses of his future the Heptapods’ language gifted to him, but nothing further. It’s too much for his mind to handle. And more than that, he wants to be surprised, wants to be overwhelmed with love and wonder in the moments when they actually occur. As much as it is a gift to know what’s to come, to know for certain of the extraordinary life they will live, it’s almost too much to take in. He will still feel guilty that she will live inside her mind for the rest of her life, that she will ultimately have to learn to live with her memories on her own, but she will assure him that it is better this way.

They will travel the world, exploring new communities and cultures together. She will teach students young and old of the gift that is a universal language, of a new understanding of time. She will tell the story of how two people managed to break through to a couple of mysterious beings and somehow prevented another global catastrophe. She will meet with the UN, leaders from many nations, and eventually King T’Challa to advise them on a far off future where their paths will lead them to the Heptapods once again.

She will use her skills to bond with Inhumans around the world, to gain their trust and help them come to terms with their powers. He will build extraordinary creations to help those who have lost parts of themselves. They will continue with the team on missions, discovering new mysteries and challenges, new Inhumans and new heroes.

But she will never stop worrying, no matter the mission and no matter how much she sees.

She will nearly lose him half a dozen times. Sometimes she’ll know that he’ll pull through, that he’ll walk through the door, a new collection of cuts and bruises decorating his skin, but fully alive. Other moments, she will not see coming, no matter how much her mind tells her in advance. During these moments, Jemma will question whether his beliefs about time are true. Because on more than one occasion, the visions change. They blur and blend together, moments she used to see suddenly disappear from her memory. Yet no matter how much she sees, she will only see her own future, not his. So, when she is told he was almost lost to another dimension, an unexplainable darkness that trapped him for what could have been eternity, she will hold him for hours, her tears soaking into his shirt. Losing him was never an option, never part of the timeline she knows now by heart. But close calls will always be around every corner.

On some days, she will teach herself to block it out, to focus on one thing rather than everything. She will remind herself of all their good days still yet to come when she knows the bad ones are not far off. And on days when the images become too much, she will visit the ones she’s already lived through: meeting him on the helicopter, their first session with Peggy and Steve, the moment they held each other in the field.

When it gets too much, they’ll take a step back. They’ll schedule less university visits, partake in less missions. As exciting as their first mission was with the Heptapods, they will find that they have had more than enough adventures to satisfy their curiosity about the dangerous and mysterious unknowns of the universe. It will not be the end of their discoveries, but more of a change of scenery. And with their new quiet life, eventually, they will make things official.

She will discover that it takes a lot to surprise her, which is why she will cherish how he will manage to turn a seemingly ordinary Saturday afternoon into something extraordinary. She will always keep his exact words buried deep inside her mind to not spoil herself until the moment happens, but when she does hear his speech for the first time in real life, she will be struck by his kindness, his commitment to their story, and her boundless love for the man who understands her like no one else.

It will be a quiet ceremony with just a few family members and friends, and she will be overjoyed to know that he never saw a glimpse of her before he saw the moment in real life, his eyes widening in disbelief as she walked down the aisle.

When they find their house by the water, they will slow dance in their empty home until they grow tired. They will sit on their porch and watch the sunrise. He will wrap blankets around her to keep her comfortable from the slight chill in the air.

On a day that feels like any other day in Jemma’s mind, he will hold her close as she cradles his face between her hands. Between kisses, he will ask her if she wants to start a family.

Without hesitation, she will say yes.

She will take his hands and wrap them around her stomach, gently stroking the life growing underneath. When he asks what they should call her as she stands in front of the mirror, she will tease him for assuming it’s a she. It will be their private joke - of knowing so much but still pretending to know so little about their future.

When their daughter is born, they will give her a name not defined by direction.

Hannah.

The same forward and back.

They will live in awe as they experience the many joys of bringing a newborn into the world. She will be a mix of him and her - his eyes, her freckles, his humor, her warmth. And slowly, she will become her own person, her own soul fascinated by new senses, new places, and new experiences.

She will laugh more than they ever thought possible for such a small bundle of joy. She will cry louder than they anticipated, but she will always come back to them, her smiles making it all worth it. They will become enamored by her innocence, her bright outlook on the world, and her selfless heart. And they will wonder how the universe created such a marvel of a human being.  

When they made a promise to each other that he would live with only the scarce glimpses of their future inside his head, she knew there would be things about their life she would have to keep from him. And with her new gift, she will know of the many wonderful moments that will make up their timeline, along with the inevitable heartbreak that comes with every life. She will see days when he will lose his temper, his frustrations with his work becoming too much for him and he will shut down. She will see days when they will lose colleagues, young lives lost too soon. She will see days she doesn’t want to become a reality.

It won’t be easy to keep things from him, but she will uphold her promise for as long as she can.

When he learns of what’s to come for their daughter, the illness Jemma saw coming, he will nearly lose himself. He will ask her how long she knew and how she could keep something like that from him, and then she will remind him of their promise. It’s what he wanted, and with that, he cannot argue.

It will take some time, but he will understand. He will hold her and damn the universe for making her live through those memories for so long on her own.

He will still believe that time is fixed, so he will see no way of lessening his daughter’s pain. But then, for the first time since their conversation after the shell departed, she will tell him of what she sees. She will hold him close and tell him that she doesn’t see their daughter’s end, that even if there are bad days ahead, the good days vastly outnumber them. She will tell him of their daughter who survives and becomes the strongest and bravest girl she’s ever known. She will tell him of the places their daughter will explore, the discoveries she’ll make on her own. She will tell him of the mysteries of their daughter’s life they’ll never know, how she’ll grow up and become a beacon of hope that continues to come back into their lives at just the right moments - every holiday, every birthday, and so many moments in-between.

It will still be a lot to live through, but through everything, they know for certain that they’re strongest together.

On one of her lowest nights, she will curse herself when she’s unable to quiet her daughter’s whimpers. She will know how long the pain will last, exactly how many months they will stay by their daughter’s side and promise that she’s the strongest person in the world. She’ll sit on the bathroom floor, questioning whether she made the right choice, whether it was right to have a daughter even with the knowledge of the pain she would suffer later on in life. And on that night, he will be the one reassuring her that they’ll be okay. He will tell her that their daughter is a gift, that she shines brighter than any star they’ve ever encountered. He will tell her that choosing to bring life to their daughter was the bravest decision she ever made.

When they reach the part of their timeline where they can breathe again, their darkest days behind them, they will watch as their daughter discovers the stars, the planets, the universe. They will teach her to write her name, to say hello and goodbye in different languages, to see people for who they really are. They will read her bedtimes stories that have no ending in sight, her curiosity about the world so strong, she will keep asking for more and more.

When Hannah is six, she will ask her parents about where she came from and how life begins. Through smiles, they will tell her the story of her life.

Jemma will say that she’s not sure if she believes in beginnings and endings. But she believes there are days that define her daughter’s story beyond her life.

Like the day they arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! To those of you that left comments, they truly meant so much to me. If you have any questions about this universe (especially since it's now canon that time is not fixed), please let me know in the comments or send me an ask on tumblr! I don't know if I'm truly finished writing for this universe, so we'll see what happens. :)

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at [mylifemyheartmyhome](http://mylifemyheartmyhome.tumblr.com)!


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